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All-fFool  Morrison 


Books  by 
HOLMAN  DAY 

ALL-"WOOL  MORRISON 

THE  RIDER  OF  THE  KING  LOG 

BLOW  THE  MAN  DOWN 

THE  EAGLE  BADGE 

THE  LANDLOPER 

RAINY  DAY  RAILROAD  WAR 

KING  SPRUCE 

THE  RAMRODDERS 

THE  RED  LANE 

SQUIPJE  PHIN 

THE  SKIPPER  AND  THE  SKIPPED 

WHERE  YOUR  TREASURE  IS 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS.  NEW  YORK 
[Established  1817] 


ALL-WOOL  MORRISON 

Time:  Today  Place:  The  United  States 
Period  of  Action:  Twenty-four  Hours 
by  HOLMAN   DAY     -^        %        "^ 

Author  of  ''The   Rider  of  King   Log"    ''The   Red 
Lane"  "King  Spruce"  "Where  Your  Treasure  Is" 


HARPER     t5f     BROTHERS     Publishers 
New   York    and   London      :      :     MCMXX 


AU<-WOOL  MORBISOS 


Copyright;  1920,  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

Published  July,  1920 

G-V 


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To 

PERCIVAL  P.  BAXTER 
A  Consistejvt  and  Courageous  Champion 
in  the  Protection  of  "The  People's  White 
CoaV*   With  the  Author's  Sincere  Friend- 
ship and  High  Regard, 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/allwoolmorrisontOOdayhiala 


Contents 

CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  How  "The  Morrison"  Broke  St.  Ronan's  Rule  i 

II.  The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring  i8 

III.  The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts    .    .  41 

IV.  Answering  the  First  Alarm 61 

V.  The  Men  Who  Were  Waiting  to  Be  Shown  79 

VI.  The  Man's  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion  90 

VII.  The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava     ...  104 

VIII.  A  Rod  in  Pickle 128 

IX.  Making  It  a  Square  Break 142 

X.  A  Senator  Sizes  Up  a  Foe 159 

XI.  Flarebacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob  167 

XII.  Rifles  Rule  in  the  People's  House      .     ,     .  182 

XIII.  The  Line-up  Forms  in  the  People's  House  .     .  191 

XIV.  The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State      .    .    .  ^..  204 

XV.  The  Boss  of  the  Job 221 

XVI.  The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor    .    .  235 

XVII.  The  Capitol  in  Shadow 252 

XVIII.  The  Capitol  Alight       267 

XIX.  Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 281 

XX.  In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 298 

XXI.  A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 314 


All'fFool  Morrison 


All-Wool    Morrison 


HOW   THE  MORRISON   BROKE  ST,  RONAN  S  RULE 

/^N  this  crowded  twenty-four-hour  cross-section 
^-^  of  contemporary  American  hfe  the  curtain  goes 
up  at  nine-thirty  o'clock  of  a  January  forenoon. 

Locality,  the  city  of  Marion — ^the  capital  of  a 
state. 

Time,  that  politically  throbbing,  project-crowded, 
anxious,  and  expectant  season  of  plot  and  counter- 
plot— the  birth  of  a  legislative  session. 

Disclosed,  the  o£&ce  of  St.  Ronan's  Mill  of  the 
city  of  Marion. 

From  the  days  of  old  Angus,  who  came  over  from 
Scotland  and  established  a  woolen  mill  and  handed 
it  down  to  David,  who  placed  it  confidently  in  the 
possession  of  his  son  Stewart,  the  unalterable  rule 
was  that  "The  Morrison"  entered  the  factory  at 
seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  could  not  be 
called  from  the  mill  to  the  office  on  any  pretext 
whatsoever  till  he  came  of  his  own  accord  at  ten 
o'clock  in  the  forenoon. 


All-Wool  Morrison 

In  the  reign  of  David  the  old  John  Robinson  wagon 
circus  paraded  the  streets  of  Marion  early  on  a 
forenoon  and  the  elephant  made  a  break  in  a  panic 
and  ran  into  the  mill  office  of  the  Morrisons  through 
the  big  door,  and  Paymaster  Andrew  Mac  Tavish 
rapped  the  elephant  on  the  trunk  with  a  penstock 
and,  only  partially  awakened  from  abstraction  in 
figures,  stated  that  "Master  Morrison  willna  see 
callers  till  he  cooms  frae  the  mill  at  ten/* 

To  go  into  details  about  the  Morrison  manners 
and  methods  and  doggedness  in  attending  to  the 
matter  in  hand,  whatever  it  might  be,  would  not 
limn  Stewart  Morrison  in  any  clearer  light  than  to 
state  that  old  Andrew,  at  seventy-two,  was  obeying 
Stewart's  orders  as  to  the  ten-o'clock  rule  and  was 
just  as  consistently  a  Cerberus  as  he  had  been  in  the 
case  of  Angus  and  David.  He  was  a  bit  more  set 
in  his  impassivity — at  least  to  all  appearances — 
because  chronic  arthritis  had  made  his  neck  per- 
manently stiff. 

It  may  be  added  that  Stewart  Morrison  was 
thirty-odd,  a  bachelor,  dwelt  with  his  widowed 
mother  in  the  Morrison  mansion,  was  mayor  of  the 
city  of  Marion,  though  he  did  not  want  to  be  mayor, 
and  was  chairman  of  the  State  Water  Storage  Com- 
mission because  he  particularly  wanted  to  be  the 
chairman;  he  was,  by  reason  of  that  office,  in  a 
position  where  he  could  rap  the  knuckles  of  those 
who  should  attempt  to  grab  and  selfishly  exploit 
"The  People's  White  Coal,"  as  he  called  water- 


How  **The  Morrison**  Broke  St.  Ronan's  Rule 

power.  These  latter  appertaining  qualifications 
were  interesting  enough,  but  his  undeviating  ob- 
servance of  the  mill  rule  of  the  Morrisons  of  St. 
Ronan's  served  more  effectively  to  point  the  matter 
of  his  character.  Stewart  Morrison  when  he  was  in 
the  mill  was  in  it  from  top  to  bottom,  from  carder 
to  spinner  and  weaver,  from  wool-sorter  to  cloth- 
hall  inspector,  to  make  sure  that  the  manufacturing 
principles  for  which  All-Wool  Morrison  stood  were 
carried  out  to  the  last  detail. 

On  that  January  morning,  as  usual,  he  was  in  the 
mill  with  his  sleeves  rolled  up. 

On  his  high  stool  in  the  office  was  Andrew  Mac 
Tavish,  his  head  framed  in  the  wicket  of  his  desk, 
and  the  style  of  his  beard  gave  him  the  look  of  a 
Scotch  terrier  in  the  door  of  a  kennel. 

The  office  was  near  the  street,  a  low  building  of 
brick,  having  one  big  room;  a  narrow,  covered  pas- 
sage connected  the  room  with  the  mill.  A  rail 
divided  the  office  into  two  small  parts. 

According  to  his  custom  in  the  past  few  months, 
Mac  Tavish,  when  he  dipped  his  pen,  stabbed 
pointed  glances  beyond  the  rail  and  curled  his  lips 
and  made  his  whiskers  bristle  and  continually  looked 
as  if  he  were  going  to  bark;  he  kept  his  mouth  shut, 
however. 

But  his  silence  was  more  baleful  than  any  sounds 
he  could  have  uttered;  it  was  a  sort  of  ominous, 
canine  silence,  covering  a  hankering  to  get  in  a  good 
bite  if  the  opportunity  was  ever  offered. 

3 


All-Wool  Morrison 

It  was  the  rabble  o'  the  morning — the  crowd 
waiting  to  see  His  Honor  the  Mayor — on  the  other 
side  of  the  rail.  It  was  the  sacrilegious  invasion  of 
a  business  office  in  the  hours  sacred  to  business.  It 
was  like  that  every  morning.  It  was  just  as  well 
that  the  taciturn  Mac  Tavish  considered  that  his 
general  principle  of  cautious  reserve  applied  to  this 
situation  as  it  did  to  matters  of  business  in  general, 
otherwise  the  explosion  through  that  wicket  some 
morning  would  have  blown  out  the  windows.  Mac 
Tavish  did  not  understand  politics.  He  did  not 
approve  of  politics.  Government  was  all  right,  of 
course .  But  the  game  of  running  it,  as  the  politicians 
played  the  game!     Bah! 

He  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  tell  the  politicians 
of  the  city  that  Stewart  Morrison  would  never 
accept  the  office  of  mayor.  Mac  Tavish  had  frothed 
at  the  mouth  as  he  rolled  his  r's  and  had  threshed 
the  air  with  his  fist  in  frantic  protest.  Stewart 
Morrison  was  away  off  in  the  mountains,  hunting 
caribou  on  the  only  real  vacation  he  had  taken  in 
half  a  dozen  years — and  the  city  of  Marion  took 
advantage  of  a  good  man,  so  Mac  Tavish  asserted,  to 
shove  him  into  the  job  of  mayor;  and  a  brass  band 
was  at  the  station  to  meet  the  mayor  and  the  howling 
mob  lugged  him  into  City  Hall  just  as  he  was, 
mackinaw  jacket,  jack-boots,  woolen  Tam,  rifle  and 
all — and  Mac  Tavish  hoped  the  master  would  wing 
a  few  of  'em  just  to  show  his  disapprobation.  In 
fact,  it  was  allowed  by  the  judicious  observers  that 

4 


How  "  The  Morrison "  Broke  St.  Ronans  Rule 

the  new  mayor  did  display  symptoms  of  desiring  to 
pump  lead  into  the  cheering  assemblage  instead  of 
being  willing  to  deliver  a  speech  of  acceptance. 

He  did  not  drop,  as  his  manner  indicated,  all  his 
resentment  for  some  weeks — and  then  Mac  Tavish 
picked  up  the  resentment  and  loyally  carried  it  for 
the  master,  in  the  way  of  outward  malevolence  and 
inner  seething.  The  regular  joke  in  Marion  was 
built  around  the  statement  that  if  anybody  wanted 
to  get  next  to  a  hot  Scotch  in  these  prohibition  times, 
step  into  the  St.  Ronan's  mill  ojBfice  any  morning 
about  nine-thirty. 

Up  to  date  Mac  Tavish  had  not  thrown  any  paper- 
weights through  the  wicket,  though  he  had  been 
collecting  ammunition  in  that  line  against  the  day 
when  nothing  else  could  express  his  emotions.  It 
was  in  his  mind  that  the  occasion  would  come  when 
Stewart  Morrison  finally  reached  the  limit  of  en- 
durance and,  with  the  Highland  chieftain's  battle- 
cry  of  the  old  clan,  started  in  to  clear  the  office, 
throwing  his  resignation  after  the  gang  o'  them! 
Mac  Tavish  would  throw  the  paper-weights.  He 
wondered  every  day  if  that  would  be  the  day,  and 
the  encouraging  expectation  helped  him  to  endure. 

Among  those  present  was  a  young  fellow  with  his 
chaps  tied  up;  there  was  a  sniveling  old  woman  who 
patted  the  young  man's  shoulder  and  evoked  pro- 
testing growls.  There  were  shifty-eyed  men  who 
wanted  to  make  a  touch — Mac  Tavish  knew  the 
breed.     There  was  a  fat,  wheezy,  pig-farm  keeper 

5 


All-Wool  Morrison 

who  had  a  swill  contract  with  the  city  and  came  in 
every  other  day  with  a  grunt  of  fresh  complaint. 
There  were  the  usual  new  faces,  but  Mac  Tavish 
understood  perfectly  well  that  they  were  there  to 
bother  a  mayor,  not  to  help  the  woolen-goods  busi- 
ness. There  was  old  Hon.  Calvin  Dow,  a  pensioner 
of  David  Morrison,  now  passed  on  to  the  consider- 
ately befriending  Stewart,  and  Mac  Tavish  was 
deeply  disgusted  with  a  man  who  was  so  impractical 
in  his  business  affairs  that,  though  he  had  been 
financially  busted  for  ten  years,  he  still  kept  along 
in  the  bland  belief,  based  on  Stewart's  assurances, 
that  money  was  due  him  from  the  Morrisons. 
Whenever  Mac  Tavish  went  to  the  safe,  obeying 
Stewart's  word,  he  expressed  sotto  voce  the  wish  that 
he  might  be  able  to  drop  into  the  Hon.  Calvin  Dow's 
palm  red-hot  coins  from  the  nippers  of  a  pair  of 
tcngs.  It  was  not  that  Mac  Tavish  lacked  the 
spirit  of  charity,  but  that  he  wanted  every  man  to 
know  to  the  full  the  grand  and  noble  goodness  of  the 
Morrisons,  and  be  properly  grateful,  as  he  himself 
was.  Dow's  complacency  in  his  hallucination  was 
exasperating! 

But  there  was  no  one  in  sight  that  morning  who 
promised  the  diversion  or  the  effrontery  that  would 
make  this  the  day  of  days,  and  there  seemed  to  be 
no  excuse  that  would  furnish  the  occasion  for  the 
battle-cry  which  would  end  all  this  pestiferous 
series  of  levees. 

The  muffled  rackelty-chackle  of  the  distant  looms 

6 


How  *'The  Morrison"  Broke  St.  Ronaris  Rule 

soothed  Mac  Tavish.  The  nearer  rick-tack  of  Miss 
Delora  Bunker's  typewriter  furnished  obbligato  for 
the  chorus  of  the  looms.  It  was  all  good  music  for 
a  business  man.  But  those  muttering,  mumbling 
mayor-chasers — it  was  a  tin-can,  cow-bell  discord  in 
a  symphony  concert. 

Mac  Tavish,  honoring  the  combat  code  of  Cale- 
donia, required  presumption  to  excuse  attack, 
needed  an  upthnist  head  to  justify  a  whack. 

Patrolman  Cornelius  Rellihan,  six  feet  two,  was 
lofty  enough.  He  marched  to  and  fro  beyond  the 
rail,  his  heavy  shoes  flailing  down  on  the  hardwood 
floor.  Every  morning  the  bang  of  those  boots 
started  the  old  pains  to  thrusting  in  Mac  Tavish's 
neck.  But  Officer  Rellihan  was  the  mayor's  major- 
domo,  officially,  and  Stewart's  pet  and  protege  and 
worshiping  vassal  in  ordinary.  An  intruding  ele- 
phant might  be  evicted;  Rellihan  could  not  even 
receive  the  tap  of  a  single  word  of  remonstrance. 

It  promised  only  another  day  like  the  others,  with 
•nothing  that  hinted  at  a  climacteric  which  would 
make  the  aff"airs  of  the  mill  oflSce  of  the  Morrisons 
either  better  or  worse. 

Then  Col.  Crockett  Shaw  marched  in,  wearing 
a  plug-hat  to  mark  the  occasion  as  especial  and 
oflScial,  but  taking  no  chances  on  the  dangers  of  that 
•unwonted  regaha  in  frosty  January;  he  had  ear- 
tabs  close  clamped  to  the  sides  of  his  head. 

Mac  Tavish  took  heart.  He  hated  a  plug-hat. 
He  disliked  Col.  Crockett  Shaw,  for  Shaw  was  a 
2  7 


All-Wool  Morrison 

man  who  employed  politics  as  a  business.  Colonel 
Shaw  was  carrying  his  shoulders  well  back  and 
seemed  to  be  taller  than  usual,  his  new  air  of  pom- 
posity making  him  a  head  thrust  above  the  horde. 
Colonel  Shaw  offensively  banged  the  door  behind 
himself.  Mac  Tavish  removed  a  package  of  time- 
sheets  that  covered  a  pile  of  paper-weights.  Colonel 
Shaw  came  stamping  across  the  room,  clapping  his 
gloved  hands  together,  as  if  he  were  as  cold  under 
the  frosty  eyes  of  Mac  Tavish  as  he  had  been  in  the 
nip  of  the  January  chill  outdoors. 

"Mayor  Morrison!  Call  him  at  once!"  he  com- 
manded, at  the  wicket. 

Mac  Tavish  closed  his  hand  over  one  of  the  paper- 
-weights.    He  opened  his  mouth. 

But  Colonel  Shaw  was  ahead  of  him  with  speech! 
"This  is  the  time  when  that  fool  mill-rule  goes 
bump!"  The  colonel's  triumphant  tone  hinted 
that  he  had  been  waiting  for  a  time  like  this.  His 
entrance  and  his  voice  of  authority  took  all  the 
attention  of  the  other  waiters  off  their  own  affairs. 
"Call  out  Mayor  Morrison." 

"Haud  yer  havers,  ye  keckling  loon!  Whaur's 
yer  een  for  the  tickit  gillie?"  The  old  paymaster 
jabbed  indignant  thumb  over  his  shoulder  to  indicate 
the  big  clock  on  the  wall. 

**I  can't  hear  what  you  say  on  account  of  these 
ear-pads,  and  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  what 
you  say,  Andy!  This  is  the  day  when  all  rules  are 
off."    He  was  fully  conscious  that  he  had  the  ears 


How  "The  Morrison"  Broke  St.  Ronans  Rule 

of  all  those  in  the  room.  He  braced  back.  With 
an  air  of  a  functionary  calling  on  the  multitude  to 
make  way  for  royalty  he  declaimed,  "Call  His 
Honor  Mayor  Morrison  at  once  to  this  room  for  a 
conference  with  the  Honorable  Jodrey  Wadsworth 
Corson,  United  States  Senator.  I  am  here  to 
announce  that  Senator  Corson  is  on  the  way." 

Mac  Tavish  narrowed  his  eyes;  he  whittled  his 
tone  to  a  fine  point  to  correspond,  and  the  general 
effect  was  like  impaling  a  puflTball  on  a  rat-tail  file. 
"If  ye  hae  coom  sunstruck  on  a  January  day,  ye'd 
best  stick  a  sopped  sponge  in  the  laft  o*  yer  tar-pail 
bonnet.  Sit  ye  doon  and  speir  the  hands  o'  the 
clock  for  to  tell  when  the  Morrison  cooms  frae  the 
mill." 

The  colonel  banged  the  flat  of  his  hand  on  the 
ledge  outside  the  wicket.  "It  isn't  an  elephant  this 
time,  Mac  Tavish.  It's  a  United  States  Senator. 
Act  on  my  orders,  or  into  the  mill  I  go,  myself!" 

The  old  man  slid  down  from  the  stool,  a  paper- 
weight in  each  hand.  "Only  o*er  my  dead  body 
will  ye  tell  him  in  yer  mortal  flesh.  Make  the  start 
to  enter  the  mill,  and  it's  my  thocht  that  ye'll  tell 
him  by  speeritual  knocks  or  by  tipping  a  table 
through  a  meejum!" 

"Lay  off"  that  jabber,  old  bucks,  the  two  of  ye!" 
commanded  Officer  Rellihan,  swinging  across  the 
room.  "I'm  here  to  kape  th'  place  straight  and 
dacint!" 

"I  hae  the  say.     I'll  gie  off*  the  orders,"  remon- 

9 


All-Wool  Morrison 

strated  Mac  Tavish;  there  was  grim  satisfaction  in 
the  twist  of  his  mouth;  it  seemed  as  if  the  day  of 
days  had  arrived. 

"On  that  side  your  bar  ye  may  boss  the  wool 
business.  But  this  is  the  mayor's  side  and  the 
colonel  is  saying  he's  here  to  see  His  Honor.  Colonel, 
ye'll  take  your  seat  and  wait  your  turn!"  He 
cupped  his  big  hand  under  the  emissary's  elbow. 

Mac  Tavish  and  Rellihan,  by  virtue  of  jobs  and 
natures,  were  foes,  but  their  team-work  in  behalf  of 
the  interests  of  the  Morrison  was  comprehensively 
perfect. 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  brains,  Rellihan?" 
demanded  the  colonel,  hotly. 

"I  don't  kape  stirring  'em  up  to  ask  'em,  seeing 
that  they're  resting  aisy,"  returned  the  policeman, 
smiling  placidly.  "And  there's  nothing  the  matter 
with  my  muscle,  is  there?"  He  gently  but  firmly 
pushed  the  colonel  down  into  a  chair. 

"Don't  you  realize  what  it  means  to  have  a  United 
States  Senator  come  to  a  formal  conference?" 

"No!    I  never  had  one  call  on  me." 

"Rellihan,  Morrison  will  fire  you  off  the  force  if 
it  happens  that  a  United  States  Senator  has  to  wait 
in  this  office." 

The  officer  pulled  off  his  helmet  and  plucked  a 
card  from  the  sweatband.  "It  says  here,  *Kape 
'em  in  order,  be  firm  but  pleasant,  tell  'em  to  wait 
in  turn,  and' — for  meself — *to  do  no  more  talking 
than  necessary.'     If  there's  to  be  a  new  rule  to  fit 


How  ^^The  Morrison"  Broke  St.  Ronans  Rule 

the  case  of  Senators,  the  same  will  prob'bly  be  handed 
to  me  as  soon  as  Senators  are  common  on  the  calling- 
list."  He  put  up  a  hand  in  front  of  the  colonel's 
face — a  broad  and  compelling  hand.  "Now  I'm 
going  along  on  the  old  orders  and  the  clock  tells 
ye  that  ye  have  a  scant  twinty  minutes  to  wait. 
And  if  I  do  any  more  talking,  of  the  kind  that  ain't 
necessary,  I'll  break  a  rule.  Be  aisy.  Colonel 
Shaw!"     He  resumed  his  noisy  promenade. 

Mac  Tavish  was  back  on  the  stool  and  he  clashed 
glances  with  Colonel  Shaw  with  alacrity. 

"There  *11  be  an  upheaval  in  this  ojffice,  Mac 
Tavish." 

"Aye!  If  ye  make  one  more  step  toward  the  mill 
door  ye'll  not  ken  of  a  certainty  whaur  ye'U  land 
when  ye're  upheaved.'* 

After  a  few  minutes  of  the  silence  of  that  armed 
truce.  Miss  Bunker  tiptoed  over  to  Mac  Tavish, 
making  an  excuse  of  a  sheet  of  paper  which  she  laid 
before  him;  the  paper  was  blank.  "Daddy  Mac!" 
Miss  Bunker  enjoyed  that  privilege  in  nomenclature 
along  with  other  privileges  usually  won  in  offices  by 
young  ladies  who  know  how  to  do  their  work  well 
and  are  able  to  smooth  human  nature  the  right  way. 
She  went  on  in  a  solicitous  whisper.  "We  must  be 
sure  that  we're  not  making  any  office  mistake. 
This  being  Senator  Corson!" 

"I  still  hae  me  orders,  lassie!'* 

"But  listen,  Daddy  Mac!     When  I  came  from 

the  post-office  the  Senator's  car  went  past  me.     Miss 

II 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Lana  was  with  him.  Don't  you  think  we  ought  to 
get  a  word  to  Mr.  Morrison?" 

"Word  o'  what?"  The  old  man  wrinkled  his 
nose,  already  sniffing  what  was  on  the  way. 

"Why,  that  Miss  Lana  may  be  calling,  along  with 
her  father." 

"What  then?" 

"Mr.  Morrison  is  a  gentleman,  above  all  things," 
declared  the  girl,  nettled  by  this  supercilious  inter- 
rogation. "If  Miss  Corson  calls  with  her  father  and 
is  obliged  to  wait,  Mr.  Morrison  will  be  mortified. 
Very  likely  he  will  be  angry  because  he  wasn't 
notified.  I  understand  the  social  end  of  things 
better  than  you.  Daddy  Mac.  I  think  it's  my  duty 
to  take  in  a  word  to  him." 

"Aye!  Yus!  Gude!  And  tell  him  the  music  is 
ready,  the  flowers  are  here,  and  the  tea  is  served! 
Use  the  office  for  all  owt  but  the  wool  business. 
To  Auld  Hornie  wi*  the  wool  business!  Politeeks 
and  socieety!  Lass,  are  ye  gone  daffie  wi'  the 
rest?" 

"Hush,  Daddy  Mac!  Don't  raise  your  voice  in 
your  temper.  What  if  he  should  still  be  in  love  with 
Miss  Lana,  spite  of  her  being  away  among  the 
great  folks  all  this  long  time?" 

Mac  Tavish  was  holding  the  paper-weights.  He 
banged  them  down  on  his  desk  and  shoved  his  nose 
close  to  hers.  "Fash  me  nae  mair  wi'  your  silly 
talk  o'  love,  in  business  hours!  If  aye  he  wanted 
her  when  she  was  here  at  hame  and  safe  and  sen- 


Hozv  "The  Morrison*  Broke  St.  Ronans  Rule 

sible,  the  Morrison  o'  the  Morrisons  had  only  to 
reach  his  hand  to  her  and  say,  *Coom,  lass!*  But 
noo  that  she  is  back  wi'  head  high  and  notions 
alaft,  he*d  no  accept  her!  She's  nowt  but  a  draft 
signed  by  Sham  o'  Shoddy  and  sent  through  the 
Bank  o' Brag  and  Blaw!  No!  He'd  no' accept  her! 
And  now  back  wi'  ye  to  yer  tickety-tack!  I  hae  my 
orders,  and  the  Queen  o'  Sheba  might  yammer  and 
be  no'  the  gainer!" 

Miss  Bunker  swept  up  the  sheet  of  blank  paper 
with  a  vicious  dab  and  went  back  to  her  work, 
crumpling  it.  Passing  the  hat-tree,  she  was  tempted 
to  grab  the  Morrison's  coat  and  waistcoat  and  run 
into  the  mill  with  them,  dodging  Mac  Tavish  and 
his  paper-weights  in  spite  of  what  she  knew  of  his 
threats  regarding  the  use  he  proposed  to  make  of 
them  in  case  of  need.  She  believed  that  Miss  Lana 
Corson  would  come  to  the  office  with  the  others  who 
were  riding  in  the  automobile.  She  had  her  own 
special  cares  and  a  truly  feminine  apprehension  in 
this  matter,  and  she  believed  that  the  young  man, 
who  was  one  of  the  guests  at  the  reopened  Corson 
mansion  on  Corson  Hill,  was  a  suitor,  just  as  Marion 
gossip  asserted  he  was. 

Miss  Bunker  had  two  good  eyes  in  her  head  and 
womanly  intuitiveness  in  her  soul,  and  she  had  read 
three  times  into  empty  air  a  dictated  letter  while 
Stewart  Morrison  looked  past  her  in  the  direction 
which  the  Corson  car  had  taken  that  first  day  when 
Lana  Corson  had  shown  herself  on  the  street. 

13 


>  All-Wool  Morrison 

And  here  was  that  stIfF-necked  old  watch-dog 
callously  laying  his  corns  so  that  Stewart  Morrison 
would  appear  to  be  boor  enough  to  allow  a  young 
lady  to  wait  along  with  that  unspeakable  rabble; 
and  when  he  did  come  he  would  arrive  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves to  be  matched  up  against  a  handsome  young 
man  in  an  Astrakhan  top-coat !  Under  those  circum- 
stances, what  view  would  Miss  Lana  Corson  take 
of  the  man  who  had  stayed  in  Marion  ?  Miss  Bunker 
was  profoundly  certain  that  Mac  Tavish  did  not 
know  what  love  was  and  never  did  understand  and 
could  not  be  enHghtened  at  that  period  in  his  life. 
But  he  might  at  least  put  the  matter  on  a  business 
basis,  she  reflected,  incensed,  and  show  some  degree 
of  local  pride  in  grabbing  in  with  the  rest  of  Mr. 
Morrison's  friends  to  assist  in  a  critical  situation. 

And  right  then  the  situation  became  pointedly 
critical. 

The  broad  door  of  the  office  was  flung  open  by  a 
chauff'eur. 

It  was  the  Corson  party. 

Colonel  Shaw  was  not  in  a  mood  to  apologize 
for  anybody  except  himself.  He  rose  and  saluted. 
"Coming  here  to  herald  your  call,  Senator  Corson, 
I  have  been  insulted  by  a  bumptious  understrapper 
and  held  in  leash  by  an  ignorant  pohceman.  They 
say  it*s  according  to  a  rule  of  the  Morrison  mills. 
I  suppose  that  when  Mayor  Morrison  comes  out  of 
the  mill  at  ten  o'clock,  following  his  own  rule,  he 
can  explain  to  you  why  he  maintains  that  insulting 


How  ''The  Morrison"  Broke  St,  Ronans  Rule 

custom  of  his  and  continues  this  kind  of  an  office 
crew  to  enforce  it." 

Miss  Bunker  flung  the  sheet  of  paper  that  she  had 
crumpled  into  a  ball  and  it  struck  Mac  Tavish  on 
the  side  of  the  head  that  he  bent  obtrusively  over  his 
figures. 

The  old  man  snapped  stiffly  upright  and  dis- 
tributed implacable  stare  among  the  members  of 
the  newly  arrived  party.  He  was  not  softened  by 
Miss  Corson's  glowing  beauty,  nor  impressed  by  the 
United  States  Senator's  dignity,  nor  won  by  the 
charming  smile  of  Miss  Corson's  well-favored  squire, 
nor  daunted  by  the  inquiring  scowl  of  a  pompous 
man  whose  mutton-chop  whiskers  mingled  with  the 
beaver  fur  about  his  neck;  a  stranger  who  was 
patently  prosperous  and  metropolitan. 

Furthermore,  Mac  Tavish,  undaunted,  promptly 
dared  to  exchange  growls  with  "Old  Dog  Tray," 
himself.  The  latter,  none  else  than  His  Excel- 
lency, Lawrence  North,  Governor  of  the  state, 
marched  toward  the  wicket,  wagging  his  tail,  but 
the  wagging  was  not  a  display  of  amiability.  The 
politicians  called  North  "Old  Dog  Tray"  because 
his  permanent  limp  caused  his  coattails  to  sway 
when  he  walked. 

"Be  jing!  I've  been  on  the  job  here  at  manny  a 
deal  of  a  morn,"  confided  Officer  Rellihan  to  Calvin 
Dow,  "but  here's  the  first  natural  straight  flush 
r'yal,  dealt  without  a  draw."  He  tagged  the  Corson 
party  with  estimating  squints,  beginning  with  the 

15 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Governor.  "Ace,  king,  queen,  John-jack,  and  the 
ten-spot !  They've  caught  the  ofl5.ce,  this  time,  with 
a  two-spot  high!" 

Mac  Tavish  played  it  pat!  **And  'tis  the  mill 
rule;  it  lacks  twal'  meenutes  o'  the  hour — and  the 
clock  yon  on  the  wall  is  richtl'*  Thus  referring  all 
responsibility  to  the  clock,  the  paymaster  dipped 
his  pen  and  went  on  with  his  figures. 

The  Governor  cross-creased  the  natural  deep  fur- 
rows in  his  face  with  ridges  which  registered  indig- 
nant amazement.  "You  have  lost  your  wits,  but 
you  seem  to  have  your  eyes!    Use  them!** 

"It's  the  mill  rule!" 

"But  we  are  not  here  on  mill  business!" 

"Then  it  canna  concern  me.** 

**  OflScer,  do  you  know  what  part  of  the  mill  Mayor 
Morrison  is  in?"  The  Governor  turned  from  Mac 
Tavish  to  Rellihan. 

"He  is  nae  sic  thing  as  mayor  till  ten  o'  the  clock 
and  till  he  cooms  here  for  the  crackin  wi'  yon  cor- 
bies!" declared  the  old  paymaster,  pointing  deroga- 
tory penstock  through  the  wicket  at  "the  crows'* 
who  were  ranged  along  the  settees. 

Rellihan  shook  his  head. 

"Well,  at  any  rate,  go  hunt  him  up/*  commanded 
His  Excellency. 

Rellihan  shook  his  head  again;  this  seemed  to  be 

an  occasion  where  unnecessary  talking  fell  under 

interdiction;    for  that  matter,   Rellihan   possessed 

only  a  vocabulary  to  use  in  talking  down  to  the 

i6 


How  "The  Morrison^'  Broke  St.  Ronans  Rule 

proletariat;  he  was  debarred  from  telling  these  dig- 
nitaries to  "shut  up  and  sit  aisy!" 

"A  blind  man,  now  a  dumb  man — Colonel  Shaw, 
go  and  hunt  up  the  man  we*re  here  to  see!" 

The  colonel  feigned  elaborately  not  to  hear. 

"And  finally  a  deaf  one!  Take  off  those  ear-tabs! 
Go  and  bring  the  mayor  here!" 

Mac  Tavish  dropped  from  his  stool,  armed  himself 
with  two  paper-weights,  and  took  up  a  strategic 
position  near  the  door  which  led  into  the  passage 
to  the  mill. 

"Roderick  Dhu  at  bay!  Impressive  tableau!" 
whispered  the  young  man  of  the  Corson  party  in 
Lana's  ear,  displaying  such  significant  and  wonted 
familiarity  that  Miss  Bunker,  employing  her  vigil- 
ance exclusively  in  the  direction  in  which  her  fears 
and  her  interest  lay,  sighed  and  muttered. 

The  door  of  the  corridor  was  flung  open  suddenly! 
The  staccato  of  the  orchestra  of  the  looms  sounded 
more  loudly  and  provided  entrance  music.  Aston- 
ishment rendered  Mac  Tavish  hors  de  combat.  He 
dropped  his  weights  and  his  lower  jaw  sagged. 

It  was  the  Morrison — breaking  the  ancient  rule  of 
St.  Ronan's — ten  minutes  ahead  of  time! 


II 

THE  THREAT  OF  WHAT  THE  NIGHT  MAY  BRING 

ALL  the  Morrisons  were  upstlckit  chiels  in  point 
**•  of  height. 

Stewart  had  appeared  so  abruptly,  he  towered  so 
dominantly,  that  a  stranger  would  have  expected  a 
general  precipitateness  of  personality  and  speech  to 
go  with  his  looks. 

But  after  he  had  closed  the  door  he  stood  and 
stroked  his  palm  slowly  over  his  temple,  smoothing 
down  his  fair  hair — a  gesture  that  was  a  part  of  his 
individuality;  and  his  smile,  while  it  was  not  at  all 
diffident,  was  deprecatory.  He  began  to  roll  down 
the  sleeves  of  his  shirt. 

There  was  the  repressed  humor  of  his  race  in  the 
glint  in  his  eyes;  he  drawled  a  bit  when  he  spoke, 
covering  thus  the  Scotch  hitch-and-go-on  in  the 
natural  accent  that  had  come  down  to  him  from  his 
ancestors. 

**I  saw  your  car  arrive,  Senator  Corson,  and  I 
broke  the  sprinting  record." 

*'And  the  mill  rule!"  muttered  Mac  Tavish. 

"It's  only  an  informal  call,  Stewart,"  explained 

the  Senator,  amiably,  walking  toward  the  rail. 

i8 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

"And  you  have  caught  me  in  informal  rig,  sir!" 
He  pulled  his  coat  and  waistcoat  from  the  hooks 
and  added,  while  he  tugged  the  garments  on,  "So 
I'll  say,  informally,  I'm  precious  glad  to  see  old 
neighbors  home  again  and  to  know  the  Corson 
mansion  is  opened,  if  only  for  a  little  while." 

"Lana  came  down  with  the  servants  a  few  days 
ago.  I  couldn't  get  here  till  last  evening.  I  have 
some  friends  with  me,  Stewart,  who  have  come  along 
in  the  car  to  join  me  in  paying  our  respects  to  the 
mayor  of  Marion." 

Morrison  threw  up  the  bar  of  the  rail  and  stepped 
through.  He  clutched  the  hand  of  the  Senator  in 
his  big,  cordial  grip.  "And  now,  being  out  in  the 
mayor's  ojSice,  I'll  extend  formal  welcome  in  the 
name  of  the  city,  sir." 

He  looked  past  the  father  toward  the  daughter. 

"But  I  must  interrupt  formality  long  enough  to 
present  my  most  respectful  compliments  to  Miss 
Corson,  even  walking  right  past  you.  Governor 
North,  to  do  so!"  explained  Stewart,  marching 
toward  Lana,  smiling  down  on  her. 

Their  brief  exchange  of  social  commonplaces  was 
perfunctory  enough,  their  manner  suggested  nothing 
to  a  casual  observer;  but  Miss  Bunker  was  not  a 
casual  observer.  "She's  ashamed,"  was  her  mental 
conviction.  "Her  eyes  give  her  away.  She  don't 
look  up  at  him  like  a  girl  can  look  at  any  man  when 
there's  nothing  on  her  conscience.  Whatever  it  was 
that  happened,  she's  the  one  who's  to  blame — but  if 

19 


All-Wool  Morrison 

she  can't  be  sorry  it  doesn't  excuse  her  because  she's 
ashamed." 

Possibly  Miss  Corson  was  covering  embarrassment 
with  the  jaunty  grandiloquence  that  she  displayed. 

"I  have  dared  to  intrude  among  the  mighty  of  the 
state  and  city,  Mister  Mayor,  in  order  to  impress 
upon  you  by  word  of  mouth  that  your  invitation  to 
the  reception  at  our  home  this  evening  isn't  merely 
an  invitation  extended  to  the  chief  executive  of  the 
city.  It's  for  Stewart  Morrison  himself,"  ran  her 
little  speech. 

"I  hoped  so.  This  word  from  you  certifies  it. 
And  Stewart  Morrison  will  strive  to  behave  just  as 
politely  as  he  used  to  behave  at  other  parties  of 
Lana  Corson's  when  he  steeled  his  heart  against  a 
second  helping  of  cake  and  cream." 

She  forestalled  her  father.  "Allow  me  to  make 
you  acquainted  with  Coventry  Daunt,  Stewart." 

Morrison  surveyed  the  young  stranger  with  frank 
and  appraising  interest.  Then  the  big  hand  went 
out  with  no  hint  of  any  reservation  in  cordiality. 

"I'm  sure  you  two  are  going  to  be  excellent 
friends ! "  prophesied  Lana.     "You're  so  much  alike." 

The  florid  giant  and  the  dapper,  dark  young  man 
swapped  apologies  in  a  faint  flicker  of  a  mutual  grin. 

"I  mean  in  your  tastes!  Mr.  Daunt  is  tre- 
mendously interested  in  water-power,"  Miss  Corson 
hastened  to  say.  "But  father  is  waiting  for  you, 
Stewart." 

So,  however,  was  the  sniveling  old  woman  waiting! 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

She  had  not  presumed  to  break  in  on  a  conference 
with  another  of  her  sex — but  when  the  mayor  turned 
from  the  lady  and  started  to  be  concerned  with  mere 
men,  the  old  woman  asserted  her  prerogative. 
**Out  of  me  way,  Con  Rellihan,  ye  omadhaun,  that 
I  have  chased  manny  the  time  out  o'  me  patch! 
I'm  a  lady  and  I  have  me  rights  first!'*  She  strug- 
gled and  squalled  when  the  officer  set  his  palms 
against  her  to  push  her  away. 

Morrison  dropped  the  Governor's  hand,  broke  ofF 
his  "duty  speech,"  and  with  rueful  smile  pleaded 
for  tolerance  from  the  Corson  party. 

"Hush,  Mother  Slattery!"  he  remonstrated. 

"Ah,  that's  orders  from  him  as  has  the  grand  right 
to  give  'em !  Niver  a  wor-rd  from  me  mouth.  Your 
'Anner,  till  I  may  say  me  say  at  your  call!" 

A  prolonged,  still  more  deprecatory  smile  was 
bestowed  by  the  mayor  on  the  elite  among  his 
guests ! 

"I  was  out  of  town  when  I  was  elected  mayor, 
and  they  hadn't  taken  the  precaution  to  measure  me 
for  an  office  room  at  the  city  building.  I  didn't  fit 
anything  down  there.  Some  day  they're  going  to 
build  the  place  over  and  have  room  for  the  mayor 
to  transact  business  without  holding  callers  on  his 
knee.  In  the  mean  time,  what  mayoralty  business 
I  don't  do  out  of  my  hat  on  the  street  I  attend  to 
here  where  I  can  give  a  little  attention  to  my  own 
business  as  well.  Now,  just  a  moment  please!"  he 
pleaded,  turning  from  them. 


All-Wool  Morrison 

He  went  to  the  old  woman,  checking  the  outburst 
with  which  she  flooded  him  when  he  approached. 
**I  know!  I  know,  Mother  Slattery!  No  need  to 
tell  me  about  it.  As  a  fellow-martyr,  I  realize  just  how 
Jim  has  been  up  against  it — again!"  He  slid  some- 
thing into  her  hand  "Rellihan  will  speak  to  the 
judge!"  He  passed  hastily  from  person  to  person, 
the  officer  at  his  heels  with  ear  cocked  to  receive  the 
orders  of  his  master  as  to  the  disposition  of  cases  and 
affairs.  Then  Rellihan  marshaled  the  retreat  of 
the  supplicants  from  the  presence. 

"I  do  hope  you  understand  why  I  attended  to  that 
business  first,"  apologized  the  mayor. 

"Certainly!  It's  all  in  the  way  of  politics," 
averred  the  Senator,  out  of  his  own  experience.  "I 
have  been  mayor  of  Marion,  myself!" 

"With  me  it's  business  instead  of  politics,"  re- 
turned Morrison,  gravely.  "I  don't  know  anything 
about  politics.  Mac  Tavish,  there,  says  I  don't. 
And  Tavish  knows  me  well.  But  when  I  took  this 
job — " 

"Ye  didna  tak'  it,"  protested  Mac  Tavish,  de- 
termined then,  as  always,  that  the  Morrison  should 
be  set  in  the  right  light.  "They  scrabbled  ye  by 
yer  scruff  and  whamped  ye  into  a — " 

"Yes!  Aye!  Something  of  the  sort!  But  I'm 
in,  and  I  feel  under  obligations  to  attend  to  the 
business  of  the  city  as  it  comes  to  hand.  And 
business — I  have  made  business  sacred  when  I  have 
taken  on  the  burden  of  it." 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

"I  fully  understand  that,  Stewart,  and  my  friend 
Daunt  will  be  glad  to  hear  you  say  what  I  know  is 
true.  For  he  is  here  in  our  state  on  business — 
business  in  your  line,"  affirmed  the  Senator.  He 
put  his  hand  on  the  arm  of  the  elderly  man  with  the 
assertive  mutton-chop  whiskers.  "Silas  Daunt, 
Mayor  Morrison!  Mr.  Daunt  of  the  banking  firm 
of  Daunt  &  Cropley." 

"Business  in  my  line,  you  say,  sir?"  demanded 
Morrison,  pursuing  a  matter  of  interest  with  charac- 
teristic directness. 

"Development  of  water-power,  Mister  Mayor. 
We  are  taking  the  question  up  in  a  broad  and,  I 
hope,  intelligent  way." 

"Good!  You  touch  me  on  my  tenderest  spot, 
Mr.  Daunt." 

"Senator  Corson  has  explained  your  intense 
interest  in  the  water-power  in  this  state.  And  this 
state,  in  my  opinion,  has  more  wonderful  possibilities 
of  development  than  any  other  in  the  Union." 

Morrison  did  not  drawl  when  he  replied.  His 
demeanor  corroborated  his  statement  as  to  his 
tenderest  spot.     "It's  a  sleeping  giant!"  he  cried. 

"It's  time  to  wake  it  up  and  put  it  to  work," 
stated  Daunt. 

"Exactly!"  agreed  Senator  Corson.  ''I'm  glad 
I'm  paying  some  of  the  debt  I  owe  the  people  of 
this  state  by  bringing  two  such  men  as  you  together. 
I  have  wasted  no  time,  Stewart!" 

"Round  and  round  the  wheels  of  great  affairs 
3  23 


All-Wool  Morrison 

begin  to  whirl!"  declaimed  Lana.  "The  grain  of 
sand  must  immediately  eliminate  itself  from  this 
atmosphere;  otherwise,  it  may  fall  into  the  bearings 
and  cause  annoying  mischief.  I'll  send  the  car 
back,  father.     I  mustn't  bother  a  business  meeting.'* 

A  grimace  that  hinted  at  hurt  wrinkled  the  candor 
of  the  Morrison's  countenance.  "I  hoped  it  wasn't 
mere  business  that  brought  you — all!"  He  dwelt 
on  the  last  word  with  wistful  significance,  staring 
at  Lana. 

"No,  no!"  said  the  Senator,  hastily.  "Not 
business — not  business,  wholly.  A  neighborly  call, 
Stewart!  The  Governor,  Mr.  Daunt,  Lana — all  of 
us  to  pay  our  respects.  But" — he  glanced  around 
the  big  room — "now  that  we're  here,  and  the  time 
will  be  so  crowded  after  the  legislature  assembles, 
why  not  let  Daunt  express  some  of  his  views  on  the 
power  situation?  Without  you  and  your  support 
nothing  can  be  done.  We  must  develop  our  noble 
old  state!    Where  is  your  private  office?'* 

"I  have  never  needed  one,"  confessed  Stewart; 
it  was  a  pregnant  hint  as  to  the  Morrison  methods. 
"I  never  expected  to  be  honored  as  I  am  to-day." 

The  Hon.  Calvin  Dow  was  posted  near  a  window 
in  a  big  chair,  comfortably  reading  one  of  Stewart's 
newspapers.  Several  other  citizens  of  Marion,  sheep 
of  such  prominence  that  they  could  not  be  shooed 
away  with  the  mere  goats  who  had  been  excluded, 
were  waiting  an  audience  with  the  mayor. 

"You   understand,    of  course,   that   there   is   no 

24 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

secrecy — that  is  to  say,  no  secrecy  beyond  the  usual 
business  precautions  involved,"  protested  the  Sen- 
ator.    The  frank  query  in  Stewart's  eyes  had  been 
a    bit    disconcerting.     "But    to    have    matters    of 
business  bandied  ahead  of  time  by  the  mouth  of 
gossip,  on  half-information,  is  as  damaging  as  all 
this  ridiculous  talk  that's  now  rioting  through  the 
city  regarding  politics.'' 

"It's  all  an  atrocious  libel  on  my  administra- 
tion," exploded  Governor  North.  "It's  damnable 
nonsense!" 

"Old  Dog  Tray,"  when  he  had  occasion  to  bark, 
was  not  noted  for  polite  reticence. 

Lana  took  Coventry  Daunt's  arm  and  started  off 
with  an  elaborate  display  of  mock  terror.  "And 
now  politics  goes  whirling,  too!  My,  how  the 
ground  shakes!  Mister  Mayor,  I'll  promise  you 
more  serene  conditions  on  Corson  Hill  this  evening." 

There  was  an  unmistakable  air  of  proprietorship 
in  her  manner  with  the  young  man  who  accompanied 
her. 

The  Governor  shook  his  finger  before  the  mayor's 
face  and,  in  his  complete  absorption  in  his  own 
tribulation,  failed  to  remark  that  he  was  not  receiving 
undivided  attention.  "I'm  depending  on  men  Hke 
you,  Morrison.  I  have  dropped  in  here  to-day  to 
tell  you  that  I'm  depending  on  you." 

Senator  Corson  had  apparently  convinced  himself 
that  the  mill  office  of  St.  Ronan's  was  too  much  of 
an   open-faced   proposition;     it   seemed   more   like 

25 


All-Wool  Morrison 

an  arena  than  a  conference-room.  Dow  and  the 
waiting  gentlemen  of  Marion  showed  that  they  were 
frankly  interested  in  the  Governor's  outbreak. 
Right  then  there  were  new  arrivals. 

The  Senator  hastily  made  himself  solitaire  man- 
ager of  that  particular  chess-game  and  ordered 
moves:  "Lana,  wait  with  Coventry  in  the  car. 
We'll  be  only  a  moment.  At  my  house  this  evening 
it  will  be  a  fine  opportunity  for  you  and  Daunt  to 
have  your  little  chat,  Stewart,  and  get  together  to 
push  the  grand  project  for  our  good  state." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Morrison;  "I'll  be  glad  to  come." 
He  was  giving  the  young  woman  and  her  escort  his 
close  attention  and  spoke  as  if  he  meant  what  he 
said.  He  bhnked  when  the  door  closed  behind 
them. 

"And  what  say  if  you  wait  till  then.  Governor, 
to  confer  with  the  mayor — if  you  really  find  that 
there  is  need  of  a  conference?"  suggested  the  director 
of  moves. 

"But  I  want  to  tell  you  right  now,  Morrison, 
seeing  that  you're  mayor  of  the  city  where  our  state 
Capitol  is  located,  that  I  expect  your  full  co-operation 
in  case  of  trouble  to-night  or  to-morrow,"  His 
Excellency  declared,  with  vigor. 

"Oh,  there  will  be  no  trouble,"  asserted  the 
Senator,  airily.  "  Coming  in  fresh  from  the  outside — 
from  a  wider  horizon — I  can  estimate  the  situation 
with   a  better  sense  of  proportion  than  you   can. 

North,  if  you'll  allow  me  to  say  so.     We  can  always 

26 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

depend  on  the  sane  reliability  of  our  grand  old 
state!" 

The  Governor  was  not  reassured  or  placated. 

**And  you  can  always  depend  on  a  certain  number 
of  sore-heads  to  make  fools  of  themselves  here — 
you  could  depend  on  it  in  the  old  days;  it's  worse  in 
these  times  when  everybody  is  ready  to  pitch  into  a 
row  and  clapper-claw  right  and  left  simply  because 
they're  aching  for  a  fight." 

The  closed  door  had  no  more  revelations  to  offer 
to  Morrison;  he  turned  his  mystified  gaze  on  the 
Senator  and  the  Governor  as  if  he  desired  to  solve  at 
least  one  of  the  problems  that  had  come  to  hand  all 
of  a  sudden. 

"I  can  take  care  of  things  up  on  Capitol  Hill, 
Morrison!  Fm  the  Governor  of  this  state  and  I  have 
been  re-elected  to  succeed  myself,  and  that  ought  to 
be  proof  that  the  people  are  behind  me.  But  I 
want  you  to  see  to  it  that  the  damnation  mob-hornets 
are  kept  at  home  in  the  city  here,  where  they  belong." 

"When  father  kept  bees  I  used  to  save  many  a 
hiveful  for  him  by  banging  on  mother's  dishpan 
when  they  started  to  swarm.     As  to  the  hornets — " 

"I  don't  care  what  you  bang  on,"  broke  in  His 
Excellency.  "On  their  heads,  if  they  show  them! 
But  do  I  have  your  co-operation  in  the  name  of  law 
and  order.'*" 

"You  may  surely  depend  on  me,  even  if  I'm 
obliged  to  mobilize  Mac  Tavish  and  his  paper- 
weights," said  the  mayor,  and  for  the  first  time  in 

27 


All-Wool  Morrison 

the  memory  of  Miss  Bunker,  at  least,  Mac  Tavlsh 
flushed;  the  paymaster  had  been  hoping  that  the 
laird  o'  St.  Ronan's  had  not  noted  the  full  extent  of 
the  belligerency  that  had  been  displayed  in  making 
mill  rules  respected. 

But  the  abstraction  that  had  marked  Morrison's 
demeanor  when  he  had  looked  over  the  Governor's 
head  at  the  closed  door  and  the  later  glint  of  jest  in 
his  eyes  departed  suddenly.     The  eyes  narrowed. 

"You  talk  of  trouble  that's  impending  this  night, 
Governor  North ! " 

"There'll  be  no  trouble,"  insisted  the  Senator. 

"  Fools  can  always  stir  a  row,"  declared  His  Excel- 
lency, with  just  as  much  emphasis.  "  Fools  who  are 
led  by  rascals!  Rascals  who  would  wreck  an  ex- 
press train  for  the  chance  to  pick  pocketbooks  off 
corpses!  There's  been  that  element  behind  every 
piece  of  political  hellishness  and  every  strike  we've 
had  in  this  country  in  the  last  two  years  since  the 
Russian  bear  stood  up  and  began  to  dance  to  that 
devil's  tune!  On  the  eve  of  the  assembling  of  this 
legislature,  Morrison,  you're  probably  hearing  the 
blacklegs  in  the  other  party  howl  *  state  steal' 
again!" 

"No,  I  haven't  heard  any  such  howl — not  lately — 
not  since  the  November  election,"  said  Morrison. 
**Why  are  they  starting  it  now?" 

"I  don't  know,"  retorted  the  Governor.  But  the 
mayor's  stare  was  again  wide-open  and  compelling, 

and  His  Excellency's  gaze  shifted  to  Mac  Tavish 

28 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

and  then  jumped  off  that  uncomfortable  object  and 
found  refuge  on  the  ceiling. 

"The  licked  rebels  know!  They're  the  only  ones 
who  do  know,"  asserted  the  Senator. 

Col.  Crockett  Shaw,  practical  politician,  felt 
qualified  to  testify  as  an  expert.  "Those  other 
fellows  won't  play  the  game  according  to  the  rules, 
Morrison!  They  sit  in  and  draw  cards  and  then 
beef  about  the  deal  and  rip  up  the  pasteboards  and 
throw  'em  on  the  floor  and  try  to  grab  the  pot. 
They  won't  play  the  game!" 

"That's  it  exactly!"  the  Governor  affirmed. 

Senator  Corson  patted  Morrison's  arm.  "Now 
that  you're  in  politics  for  yourself,  Stewart,  you  can 
see  the  point,  can't  you?" 

"I  don't  think  I'm  in  politics,  sir,"  demurred  the 
mayor,  smiling  ingenuously.  "At  any  rate,  there 
isn't  much  politics  in  me!" 

"But  the  game  must  be  played  by  the  rules!" 
Senator  Corson  spoke  with  the  finality  of  an  oracle. 

"If  you  don't  think  that  way,"  persisted  Governor 
North,  nettled  by  Morrison's  hesitancy  in  jumping 
into  the  ring  with  his  own  party,  "what  do  you 
think?" 

"I  wouldn't  presume,"  drawled  Stewart,  "to 
offer  political  opinions  to  gentlemen  of  your  experi- 
ence. However,  now  that  you  ask  me  a  blunt 
question,  I'm  going  to  reply  just  as  bluntly — but  as 
a  business  man!     I  believe  that  running  the  affairs 

of  the  people  on  the  square  is  business — it  ought  to 

29 


All-Wool  Morrison 

be  made  good  business.  Governor  North,  you're  at 
the  head  of  the  biggest  corporation  in  our  state. 
That  corporation  is  the  state  itself.  And  I  don't 
believe  the  thing  ought  to  be  run  as  a  game — naming 
the  game  politics." 

"That's  the  only  way  the  thing  can  be  run — and 
you've  got  to  stand  by  your  own  party  when  it's 
running  the  state.  You  need  a  Httle  lesson  in 
politics,  Morrison,  and  I'm  going  to  show  you — " 

The  mayor  of  Marion  raised  a  protesting  hand. 
"I  never  could  get  head  nor  tail  out  of  a  political 
oration,  sir.  But  I  do  understand  facts  and  figures. 
Let's  get  at  facts!  Is  this  trouble  you  speak  of  as 
imminent — is  it  due  to  the  question  of  letting 
certain  members  of  the  House  and  Senate  take  their 
seats  to-morrow?" 

"I  must  go  into  that  matter  with  you  in  detail!'* 

"It  has  been  gone  into  with  detail  in  the  news- 
papers till  I'm  sick  of  it,  with  all  due  respect  to  you, 
Governor  North.  It  has  been  played  back  and  forth 
like  a  game — and  I  don't  understand  games.  There 
has  been  no  more  talk  of  trouble  since  you  and  your 
executive  council  let  it  be  known  that  all  the  members 
were  to  walk  into  the  State  House  and  take  their 
seats  and  settle  among  themselves  their  rights." 

"We  never  dehberately  and  decisively  let  that  be 
known." 

"Then  it  has  been  guessed  by  your  general  atti- 
tude, sir.  That's  the  common  talk — and  the  com- 
mon talk  comes  to  me  like  it  does  to  all  others. 

30 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

That  talk  has  smoothed  things.  Why  not  keep 
things  smooth?" 

"  Breaking  election  laws  to  keep  sore-heads  smooth  ? 
Is  that  your  idea  of  politics?" 

"You  cannot  get  me  into  any  argument  over 
politics,  sir!  I'm  talking  about  the  business  of  the 
state.  I  have  found  that  I  could  do  business  openly 
in  this  office.  It  has  served  me  even  though  it  has 
no  private  room.  I  say  nothing  against  you  and 
your  council  because  you  have  done  the  state's 
business  behind  closed  doors  at  the  State  House. 
However — " 

"The  law  obliges  us  to  canvass  returns  in  execu- 
tive session,  Morrison." 

"I  say  nothing  against  the  business  you  have  done 
there,"  proceeded  Morrison,  inexorably.  "I  can't 
say  anything.  I  don't  know  what  has  been  done. 
I'm  in  no  position,  therefore,  to  criticize.  If  I  did 
know  I'd  probably  have  good  reason  to  praise  you 
state  managers  as  good  and  faithful  servants  of  our 
people.  But  the  people  don't  know.  You  have  left 
'em  to  guess.  It's  their  business.  It's  bad  policy 
to  keep  folks  guessing  when  their  own  business  is 
concerned.  What's  the  matter  with  throwing  wide 
the  doors  to-morrow  and  saying  *Come  along  in, 
people,  and  we'll  talk  this  over'?" 

"That's  admitting  the  mob  to  riot,  to  intimidate, 
to  rule!" 

"Impractical — ^wholly  impractical,  Stewart,"  the 
Senator  chided. 

31 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Calvin  Dow  came  toward  the  group,  stuflGing  his 
spectacles  back  into  their  case.  Given  a  decoration 
for  his  coat  lapel,  the  Hon.  Calvin  Dow,  with  his 
white  mustache  and  his  imperial,  would  have  served 
for  an  excellent  model  in  a  study  of  a  marshal  of 
France.  His  intrusion,  if  such  it  was,  was  not  re- 
sented; with  his  old-school  manners  and  his  gentle 
voice  he  was  the  embodiment  of  apology  that  de- 
manded acceptance.  "Jodrey,  you  never  said  a 
truer  word.  As  old  politicians,  you  and  I,  we  under- 
stand just  how  impractical  such  an  idea  is.  But 
I  must  be  allowed  to  put  the  emphasis  very  de- 
cidedly on  the  word  'old.'  There  seems  to  be  some- 
thing new  in  the  air  all  of  a  sudden." 

"Yes,  a  fresh  crop  of  moonshiners  in  politics," 
was  the  Senator's  acrid  response.  "And  the  stuff 
they're  putting  out  is  as  raw  and  dangerous  as  this 
prohibition-ducking  poison." 

"The  trouble  is,  Jodrey,"  pursued  the  old  man, 
gently,  but  undeterred,  "those  honest  folks  who 
really  do  own  the  country  show  signs  of  waking  up 
and  wanting  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  the  politicians 
hold  on  it;  and  those  radicals  who  think  they're 
going  to  own  the  country  right  soon,  now,  believe 
they  can  turn  the  trick  overnight  by  killing  off  the 
politicians  and  browbeating  the  proprietors.  It 
looks  to  me  as  if  the  politicians  and  the  real  owners 
better  hitch  up  together  on  a  clean,  business 
asis. 

"Excellent!     Excellent!"  declared  Banker  Daunt, 

32 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

who  had  been  shifting  uneasily  from  foot  to  foot, 
chafing  his  heavy  neck  against  the  beaver  collar, 
perceiving  that  his  own  projects  were  only  marking 
time.  "Hitch  up  on  a  better  business  basis!  It 
should  be  the  slogan  of  the  times.  Eh,  Mister 
Mayor?" 

"Right  you  are!"  crisply  agreed  Stewart,  compli- 
menting Daunt  with  a  cheery  smile  that  promised 
excellent  understanding. 

"And  harmony  among  the  progressive  leaders  of 
city  and  state!  Eh,  Mister  Mayor?  What  say. 
Governor  North?"  The  metropolitan  Mr.  Daunt 
was  not  disposed  to  allow  his  commercial  proposition 
to  be  run  away  with  by  a  stampeding  political  team. 

"That's  what  I'm  asking  for — ^the  co-operation 
that  will  fetch  harmony,"  admitted  the  Governor, 
grudgingly.     "  But — " 

However,  when  His  Excellency  turned  to  the  mayor 
with  the  plain  intent  of  getting  down  to  a  working 
understanding,  Mr.  Daunt  broke  up  what  threatened 
to  be  an  embarrassing  clinch.  As  if  carried  away 
by  enthusiasm  in  meeting  one  of  his  own  kind  in 
business  affairs,  Daunt  grabbed  Morrison's  hand 
and  pulled  the  mayor  away  with  him  toward  the 
door,  assuring  him  that  he  was  glad  to  pitch  in,  heart 
and  soul,  with  a  man  who  had  the  best  interests  of  a 
grand  state  to  conserve  and  develop  in  the  line  of 
water-power.  Then  he  went  on  as  if  quoting  from 
a  prospectus. 

"When  the  veins  and  the  arteries  of  old  Mother 

33 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Earth  have  been  drained  of  the  coal  and  oil,  Mr. 
Morrison,  God's  waters  will  still  be  flowing  along  the 
valleys,  roaring  down  the  cliflFs,  ready  to  turn,  the 
wheels  of  commerce.  On  the  waters  we  must  put 
our  dependence.  They  are  the  Creator's  best 
heritage  to  His  people,  in  lifting  and  making  light 
the  burden  of  labor!"  was  the  promoter's  pompous 
declaration. 

"You  cannot  shout  that  truth  too  loudly,  sir! 
I  have  been  crying  it,  myself.  But  I  always  add 
with  my  cry  the  warning  that  if  the  people  don't 
look  sharp,  the  folks  who  hogged  the  other  heritages, 
grabbed  the  iron,  hooked  onto  the  coal,  and  have 
posted  themselves  at  the  tap  o'  the  nation's  oil-can, 
will  have  the  White  Coal,  too!  God  will  still  make 
water  run  downhill,  but  it  will  run  for  the  profit  of 
the  men  who  peddle  what  it  performs.  I'll  be  glad 
to  have  you  help  me  in  that  warning!" 

"Exactly!"  agreed  Mr.  Daunt.  "When  you  and 
I  are  thoroughly  en  rapport,  we  can  accomplish 
wonders."  His  rush  of  the  willing  Morrison  to  the 
door  had  accomplished  one  purpose:  he  had  created 
a  diversion  that  staved  off  further  political  disagree- 
ment for  the  moment.  "You  must  pardon  my 
haste  in  being  off.  Mister  Mayor.  Senator  Corson 
has  promised  to  motor  me  along  the  river  as  far  as 
possible  before  lunch,  so  that  I  may  inspect  the 
water-power  possibilities.  Come,  Governor  North !  '* 
he  called. 

Daunt  again  addressed  Morrison,     "The  Senator 

34 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

tells  me  that  your  mill  privilege  is  the  key  power  on 
the  river." 

"Aye,  sir!  The  Morrison  who  was  named  Angus 
built  the  first  dam,"  stated  Stewart,  with  pride. 
"But  we  have  never  hoarded  the  water  nor  hampered 
the  others  who  have  come  after  us.  We  use  what 
we  need — only  that — and  let  the  water  flow  free — 
and  we're  glad  to  see  it  go  down  to  turn  other 
wheels  than  our  own.  Without  the  many  wheels 
a-tuming  there  would  not  have  been  the  many 
homes  a-building!" 

"Exactly!  Development  —  along  the  broadest 
lines!  Do  you  promise  me  your  aid  and  your 
co-operation  ? " 

"I  do,"  declared  Stewart. 

"You're  the  kind  of  a  man  who  makes  a  spoken 
word  of  that  sort  more  binding  than  a  written 
pledge  with  a  notarial  seal."  Again  Daunt  shook 
the  Morrison  hand.     "I  consider  it  settled!" 

Daunt's  wink  when  he  grabbed  Morrison  had 
tipped  ofF  Senator  Corson,  and  the  latter  collaborated 
with  alacrity;  he  hustled  the  Governor  toward  the 
door.  "We  must  show  Daunt  all  we  can  before 
lunch.  Your  Excellency !  All  the  possibilities  of  the 
grand  old  state!" 

"I  haven't  got  your  promise  for  myself,  Morrison," 
snapped  North  over  his  shoulder.  "But  I  reckon  I 
can  depend  on  you  to  do  as  much  for  your  party 
and  for  law  and  order  as  you'll  do  for  the  sake  of  a 
confounded  mill-dam.     And  we'll  leave  it  that  way !  '* 

35 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"There'll  be  no  trouble,  I  repeat,'*  promised 
Senator  Corson,  making  himself  file-closer.  "North 
has  been  sticking  too  close  to  politics  on  Capitol 
Hill,  and  he  has  let  it  make  him  nervous.  But  we'll 
put  festivity  ahead  of  everything  else  on  Corson  Hill, 
to-night,  and  the  girls  will  be  on  hand  to  make  the 
boys  all  sociable.     Come  early,  Stewart!" 

The  mayor  flung  up  his  hand — a  boyish  gesture  oi 
faith  in  the  best.  "Hail  to  you  as  a  peacemaker! 
We  have  been  needing  you!  We're  glad  you're 
home  again,  sir." 

For  a  few  moments  he  turned  his  back  on  the 
business  of  the  city,  as  it  awaited  him  in  the  persons 
of  the  citizens.  He  went  to  the  front  window  and 
gazed  at  the  Corson  limousine  until  it  rolled  away; 
Lana  had  Coventry  Daunt  with  her  in  the  cozy 
intimacy  aflForded  by  the  twin  seats  forward  in  the 
tonneau. 

"They  make  a  smart-looking  couple,  bub,"  com- 
mented Calvin  Dow,  feeling  perfectly  free  to  stand 
at  Stewart's  elbow  to  inspect  any  object  that  the 
younger  man  found  of  interest.  "Is  it  to  be  a  hitch, 
as  the  gossip  runs?" 

"There  seems  to  be  some  gossip  that's  running 
ahead  of  my  ken  in  this  city  just  now,  Calvin!" 
The  mayor  frowned,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  departing 
car.  His  demeanor  hinted  that  his  thoughts  were 
wholly  absorbed  by  the  persons  in  that  car.  "I  hope 
you're  spry  enough  to  catch  it.     Go  find  out  for  me, 

will  you,  what  the  blue  mischief  they're  up  to?" 

36 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

"In  politics?    Or—" 

"In  politics!  Yes!"  returned  Morrison,  tartly. 
"What  other  kind  of  gossip  would  I  be  interested  in, 
this  day?" 

He  snapped  himself  around  on  his  heels  and 
started  toward  the  men  who  were  waiting.  He 
singled  one  and  clapped  brisk  hands  smartly  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  wanted  to  wake  himself  from 
the  abstraction  of  bothersome  visions.  "Well,  Mis- 
ter Public  Works,  how  about  the  last  lap  of  pav- 
ing on  McNamee  Avenue?  Can  we  open  up  to- 
morrow? I  plan  on  showing  our  arriving  legis- 
lative cousins  clean  thoroughfares  on  Capitol  Hill, 
you  know!" 

"I'm  losing  fourteen  men  off  the  job  at  noon  to- 
day, Your  Honor!  Grabbed  off  without  notice," 
grumbled  the  superintendent. 

"Grabbed  ofF  for  what?" 

"Well,  maybe,  to  keep  our  paving-blocks  from 
being  thrown  through  the  windows  of  the  State 
House!" 

"Who  is  taking  those  men  from  their  work?" 

"The  adjutant-general.  They're  Home  Guard 
boys." 

"Something  busted  out  in  Patagonia  needing 
the  attention  of  a  League  of  Nations  army?"  in- 
quired the  mayor,  putting  an  edge  of  satire  on  his 
astonishment. 

The  superintendent  shot  a  swift  stare  past  the 
mayor.     "Perhaps  Danny  Sweetsir,  there,  can  tell 

37 


All-Wool  Morrison 

you — Captain  Daniel  Sweetsir."  The  public  works 
man  copied  the  mayor's  sarcasm  by  dwelling  on  the 
title  he  applied  to  Sweetsir. 

The  mayor  took  a  look,  too. 

A  young  man  in  overalls  and  jumper  had  hurried 
into  the  office  from  the  private  passage;  he  was 
trotting  toward  a  closet  in  one  comer.  He  had  the 
privileges  of  the  office  because  he  was  "a  mill 
student,"  studying  the  textile  trade,  and  was  a  son 
of  the  Morrison's  family  physician. 

Sweetsir  shucked  off  his  jumper,  leaped  out  of  his 
overalls,  threw  them  in  at  the  closet  door,  and  was 
revealed  in  full  uniform  of  O.  D.  except  for  cap  and 
sword.  He  secured  those  two  essentials  of  equip- 
ment from  the  closet  and  strode  toward  the  rail, 
buckling  on  his  sword. 

Miss  Bunker  was  surveying  him  with  telltale  and 
proprietary  pride  that  was  struggling  with  an  ex- 
pression of  utter  amazement. 

"The  deil-haet  ails  'em  a'  this  day!"  exploded 
Mac  Tavish.  The  banked  fires  of  his  smoldering 
grudges  blazed  forth  in  a  sudden  outburst  of  words 
that  revealed  the  hopes  he  had  been  hiding.  His 
natural  cautiousness  in  his  dealings  with  the  master 
went  by  the  board.  "Noo  it's  yer  time,  chief! 
I'll  hae  at  'em — the  whole  fause,  feth'rin'  gang  o'  the 
tykes,  along  wi'  ye!  Else  it's  heels  o'er  gowdie  fer 
the  woolen  business." 

Morrison  flicked  merely  a  glance  of  mystification 
at  Mac  Tavish.     The  master's  business  was  with  his 


The  Threat  of  What  the  Night  May  Bring 

mill  student.  "What's  wrong  with  you,  Danny? 
Hold  yourself  for  a  moment  on  that  side  of  the  rail 
where  you're  still  a  man  of  the  mill!  I'm  afraid  of  a 
soldier,  like  you'll  be  when  you're  out  here  in  the 
mayor's  office,"  he  explained,  softening  the  situation 
with  humor.     "What  does  it  mean?" 

"The  whole  company  of  the  St.  Ronan's  Rifles 
has  been  ordered  to  the  armory,  sir.  The  adjutant- 
general  just  informed  me  over  the  mill  'phone." 

"What's  amiss?" 

Captain  Sweetsir  saluted  stiffly.  "I  am  not  al- 
lowed to  ask  questions  of  a  superior  officer,  sir,  or  to 
answer  questions  put  by  a  civilian.  I  am  now  a 
soldier  on  duty,  sir!" 

"Come  through  the  rail.'* 

The  officer  obeyed  and  stood  before  Morrison. 

"Now,  Captain,  you're  in  the  office  of  the  mayor  of 
Marion,  and  the  mayor  officially  asks  you  why  the 
mihtia  has  been  ordered  out  in  his  city?" 

Again  Captain  Sweetsir  saluted.  "Mister  Mayor, 
I  refer  you  to  my  superior  officer,  the  adjutant-gen- 
eral of  the  state." 

Morrison  promptly  shook  the  young  man  cor- 
dially by  the  hand.  "That's  the  talk.  Captain 
Sweetsir!  Attend  honestly  to  whatever  job  you're 
on!    It's  my  own  motto." 

"I  try  to  do  it,  Mr.  Morrison.  You  have  always 
set  me  the  example!" 

Mac  Tavish  groaned.  He  saw  mill  drscipline 
going  into  the  garbage  along  with  everything  else 
4  39 


All-Wool  Morrison 

that  had  been  sane  and  sensible  and  regular  at  St. 
Ronan's.  And  the  Morrison  himself  had  come 
from  the  mill  that  day  ten  minutes  ahead  of  the  hour! 

"So,  on  with  you,  lad,  and  do  your  duty!" 
Stewart  forwarded  Sweetsir  with  a  commendatory 
clap  of  the  palm  on  the  barred  shoulder. 

Calvin  Dow  was  Hngering.  "We  mustn't  let  the 
youngsters  shame  us,  Calvin,"  Morrison  murmured 
in  the  old  man's  ear.  "We  all  seem  to  have  our 
jobs  cut  out  for  us — and  I  can't  tend  to  mine  in  an 
understanding  way  till  you  have  attended  to  yours." 

The  veteran  saluted  as  smartly  as  had  the  soldier 
and  trudged  away  on  the  heels  of  Sweetsir. 

"Ain't  there  any  way  of  your  making  that  infernal 
old  tin  soldier  up  at  the  State  House  lay  his  paws  off 
our  paving  crew?"  asked  the  superintendent. 

"Hush,  Baldwin!"  chided  the  mayor,  unruffled, 
speaking  indulgently.  "We  seem  to  have  a  new  war 
on  the  board !  Have  you  forgotten,  after  all  that  has 
been  happening  in  this  world,  that  in  time  of  war  we 
must  sacrifice  public  improvements  and  private  enter- 
prises?   Go  on  and  do  your  best  with  the  paving." 

"Hell  is  paved  with  good  intentions,  but  I  can't 
put  *em  down  on  McNamee  Avenue." 

"Of  course  not,  Baldwin!  That  would  be  using 
war  material  that  will  be  urgently  needed,  if  I'm 
any  judge  of  these  times." 

"How's  that.  Mister  Mayor?" 

"Why,  the  hell  architects  seem  to  be  planning  an 
,  extension  of  the  premises,"  drawled  Morrison. 

40 


Ill 

THE   MORRISON  ASSUMES    SOME   CONTRACTS 

TN  the  past,  each  day  after  lunch,  Mac  Tavish  had 
^  been  enabled  to  get  back  to  the  sanity  of  a  well- 
conducted  woolen-mill  business;  in  the  peace  that 
descended  on  the  office  afternoons  he  put  out  of  his 
mind  the  nightmare  of  the  forenoons  and  tried  not 
to  think  too  much  of  what  the  morrows  promised. 

Stewart  Morrison  had  caused  it  to  be  known  in 
Marion  that  he  reserved  afternoons  for  the  desk 
affairs  of  St.  Ronan's  mill. 

Mac  Tavish  always  brought  his  lunch;  he  cooked 
it  himself  in  his  bachelor  apartment  and  warmed  it 
up  in  the  office  over  a  gas-burner  at  high  noon. 

While  he  was  brushing  the  crumbs  of  an  oaten 
cake  off  his  desk,  six  men  filed  in.  He  knew  them 
well.  They  were  from  the  Marion  Chamber  of 
Commerce;  they  made  up  the  Industrial  Develop- 
ment Committee. 

"I'm  afraid  we're  a  bit  too  early  to  see  the  mayor,'* 
suggested  Chairman  Despeaux. 

"Ye  are!  Nigh  twenty-two  hours  too  early  to  see 
the  mayor!" 

41 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"But  we  'phoned  the  house  and  were  told  he  had 
left  to  come  to  the  office!" 

"The  mayor — mind  ye,  the  mayor — ^he  cooms  frae 
the  mill  at — " 

Mac  Tavish  remembered  the  crashing  blow  to  his 
proud  pronunciamiento  that  forenoon,  and  his  natural 
caution  regarding  statements  caused  him  to  hesitate. 
"He  is  supposed  to  coom  frae  the  mill  at  ten  o'clock, 
antemeridian!  Postmeridian,  Master  Morrison,  of 
St.  Ronan's — not  the  mayor — he  cooms  to  his  desk 
yon — ^well,  when  he  cooms  isna  the  concern  o*  those 
who  are  speirin  for  a  mayor." 

The  gentlemen  of  the  committee  exchanged  wise 
grins,  suggestively  sardonic  grins,  and  sat  down. 

Mac  Tavish,  bristling  in  silence  over  his  figures, 
was  comforted  by  the  ever-springing  hope  that  this 
intrusion  might  serve  as  the  last  straw  on  the  over- 
loaded Morrison  endurance. 

He  perked  up  expectantly  when  Stewart  came 
striding  in.  Then  he  wilted  despondently,  because 
Morrison  greeted  the  gentlemen  with  breezy  hos- 
pitality, led  them  beyond  the  rail,  and  gave  them 
chairs  near  his  desk. 

"Command  me!     I  am  at  your  service!" 

"We're  on  our  way  to  Senator  Corson's.  We 
have  been  invited  to  meet  Mr.  Daunt  at  lunch," 
said  Despeaux;  a  thin  veneer  of  suavity  suited  his 
thin  Hps. 

"Fine!" 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.    We  felt  that  we'd 

42 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

like  your  opinion  of  him  and  his  plans  before  we 
commit  ourselves." 

"I  like  his  personality,"  stated  Stewart,  heartily. 
"  But  I  have  only  a  general  notion  of  his  plans." 

"Same  here,"  admitted  the  chairman,  though  not 
in  a  tone  of  convincing  sincerity.  "The  Senator 
brought  him  into  my  office  for  a  minute  or  so  before 
they  started  up-river.  Told  me  to  get  the  boys 
together  and  come  for  lunch.  But  if  it's  to  put  the 
water-power  of  this  state  on  a  bigger  and  broader 
basis,  you  and  the  storage  commission  are  with  us, 
aren't  you?"  Despeaux  demanded  rather  than 
queried;   his  air  was  a  bit  offensive. 

"I'm  a  citizen  of  Marion  and  a  native  of  this 
state,  body  and  soul  for  all  the  good  that  can  come 
to  us,  by  our  own  efforts  or  through  the  aid  of  out- 
siders," declared  Morrison,  spacking  his  palm  upon 
the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"Well,  I  guess  we  don't  need  any  better  promise 
than  that,  for  a  starter,  at  any  rate.  Of  course,  we 
knew  it — but  there's  nothing  like  having  a  right- 
out  word  of  mouth."  Despeaux  rose  and  pulled 
out  his  watch.  "We'd  better  move  on  toward  the 
eats,  boys!" 

"Just  a  moment,  however,  Despeaux!  My  father 
was  a  Morrison  and  my  mother  a  Mac  Dougal.  I 
can't  help  what's  in  me!" 

"What  is  it  that's  in  you?"  inquired  Despeaux, 
pausing  in  the  act  of  putting  back  his  watch. 

"Scotch  cautiousness!" 

43 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"You  don*t  suspect  that  a  man  like  the  big  Silas 
Daunt,  of  Daunt  and  Cropley — " 

"I  don't  suspect.  I  haven't  got  as  far  as  that! 
But  I  want  to  know  exactly  what  he  means  by  coming 
into  this  state.  I  have  a  man  out  getting  me  some 
facts  about  what  kind  of  a  devil's  mess  is  being 
stirred  up  all  of  a  sudden  to-day  in  politics.  Sup- 
pose you  get  under  Daunt's  hide  and  find  out  whether 
he  wants  to  do  us  or  do  for  us,  on  the  water-power 
matter." 

An  observant  bystander  would  have  perceived  a 
queer  sort  of  crispness  in  Morrison's  manner  from 
the  outset  of  the  interview;  the  same  perspicacity 
would  have  detected  something  hard  under  the 
smooth  surface  of  Despeaux's  early  politeness. 
Mr.  Despeaux  was  not  so  elaborately  polite  when  he 
retorted  that  he  did  not  propose  to  play  the  spy  on 
a  guest  while  eating  a  host's  victuals. 

Mr.  Morrison  promptly  put  more  of  a  snap  into 
his  crispness. 

"Having  balanced  to  partners,  for  politeness's 
sake,  Despeaux,  we'll  take  hold  of  hands  and  swing, 
with  both  feet  on  the  floor.  That  was  a  good  job 
you  did  in  the  legislative  lobby  two  years  ago  for  the 
crowd  that  called  itself  *The  Consolidated  Develop- 
ment Company.'  You're  a  smart  lawyer  and  we 
had  hard  work  beating  you." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  you  franchise-owners  did, 
Morrison!  You  beat  a  grand  and  comprehensive 
plan  that  was  going  to  take  in  the  whole  state.'* 

44 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

"It  did  take  in  a  lot  of  folks  for  a  time,  but,  thank 
God,  it  didn't  take  in  a  few  of  us  who  were  wise  to 
the  scheme.  I  know  why  you  have  called  on  me 
to-day.  But  you  haven't  put  me  on  record.  Let 
no  man  of  you  think  I  have  made  a  pledge  or  have 
committed  myself  till  I  know  what's  what!" 

"You're  Scotch,  all  right,  Morrison.  You're 
canny!  You're  for  yourself  and  the  main  chance. 
Now  let  me  tell  you !  You  caught  us  foul  two  years 
ago  because  you  jumped  the  newspapers  into  coming 
out  with  broadsides  about  a  thing  they  didn't 
understand.  Their  half-baked  scare  stuff  made  the 
state  think  somebody  was  trying  to  steal  the  whole 
water-power." 

"According  to  that  general  franchise  bill,  as  it 
was  framed,  somebody  was!" 

"Morrison,  in  the  last  two  years  the  people  have 
been  educated  to  understand  that  broad-gaged 
consolidation  of  water-power  is  what  we  must 
have." 

"You  have  put  out  good  propaganda.  That 
fellow  you  have  hired  is  a  mighty  fine  press-agent,'* 
admitted  Morrison,  smiling  ingenuously. 

"And  the  men  who  get  in  the  way  and  try  to  trig 
development  this  year  will  be  ticketed  before  an 
understanding  public  for  what  they  are,"  declared 
Despeaux. 

"Try  me  as  a  part  of  the  public,  and  see  whether 
I'll  understand!  Ticketed  as  what,  Brother  Des- 
peaux?" 

AS 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"As  profiting  dogs  in  the  manger  of  manufacturing, 
sir!" 

There  were  expostulatory  murmurs  in  the  group. 

"We're  rather  non-committal  as  a  body  on  this 

matter,    Despeaux,"    protested    a    committeeman. 

"We're  waiting  to  be  shown.     In  the  mean  time,  we 

^  don't  like  to  have  a  man  like  Morrison  here  called 

any  hard  names." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  being  called  a  watch-dog,  boys! 
That's  what  I  am.  So  you  think  I'm  wholly  selfish, 
'-do  you,  Despeaux?" 

"The  water-power  franchises  of  this  state  were 
grabbed  away  from  the  people  years  ago,  like  the 
timber-lands  were,  by  first-comers,  and  the  state 
got  nothing!  The  waters  belong  to  the  people. 
The  people  have  a  right  to  realize  on  their  property! 
Morrison,  considering  what  kind  of  a  free  gift  you 
had  handed  to  you,  you've  got  to  be  careful  about 
the  position  you  take  in  these  enlightened  days  w^hen 
the  people  propose  to  profit  from  their  own.  It's 
mighty  easy  to  shift  public  opinion  these  days!" 

"Yes,  I  have  seen  tons  of  sand  shifted  in  no  time 
by  a  stream  from  a  squirt-gun,"  confessed  Morrison, 
placidly. 

"And  that  leaves  it  a  fifty-fifty  break  between  us 
on  the  name-calling  proposition,"  rejoined  Des- 
peaux. "I'll  bid  you  a  kind  good  day!"  He  strode 
away  and  his  group  trailed  him. 

A  deprecating  committeeman  turned  back,  how- 
ever.    "I  know  you  are  honest,  Morrison.     But  a 

46 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

lot  of  us  are  beginning  to  think  that  the  general 
policy  in  the  state  regarding  outside  capital  has  been 
a  bit  too  conservative.     These  are  new  times." 

"Very!"  said  the  mayor,  pleasantly.  "They're 
creaking  about  as  loud  as  Squire  Despeaux's  new 
shoes."  There  was  a  snarl  of  ire  from  the  shoes 
every  time  the  retreating  chairman  lifted  a  foot. 
**I  hope  they  won't  pinch  us,  Doddridge!  Good 
day!"     He  sat  down  at  his  desk. 

Mac  Tavish  held  his  place  on  his  stool  in  silence 
for  a  long  time.  The  stiffness  of  his  neck  seemed  to 
embrace  all  his  members,  even  his  tongue.  Miss 
Bunker  came  in  from  her  lunch,  bringing  the  after- 
noon mail.  Mac  Tavish  maintained  his  silence 
while  Morrison  picked  out  what  were  patently  his 
personal  letters  before  surrendering  the  others  to 
the  girl  to  be  opened  and  assorted.  Mac  Tavish 
waited  till  his  master  had  gone  through  his  personal 
mail.  The  paymaster  maintained  a  demeanor  of 
what  may  be  termed  hopeful  apprehension;  this 
baiting,  this  impugning  of  honesty  must  needs 
turn  the  trick!  No  Morrison  would  stand  for  it! 
Mac  Tavish  found  the  laird's  suppression  of  all 
comment  promisingly  bodeful.  The  fuse  must  be 
sizzling.     There  would  be  an  explosion! 

But  Morrison  began  to  play  a  lively  tattoo  on  his 
desk  with  the  knob  of  a  paper-slitter  and  whistled 
"The  Campbells  Are  Coming,  Hurrah,  Hurrah!" 
with  the  cheery  gusto  of  a  man  who  had  not  a  care 
to  trouble  him. 

47 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Snoolin*  and  snlrtlin'  o'er  it!"  spat  the  old  man. 

"Eh?"  queried  Stewart,  amiably. 

"Do  ye  let  whigmaleeries  flimmer  in  yer  noddle 
at  a  time  like  this?" 

"Why,  Andy,  speaking  of  a  day  like  this,  you'd 
have  the  crochets  whiffed  from  your  head  if  you'd 
go  out  for  your  lunch  in  the  pep  of  the  air  instead 
of  penning  yourself  in  the  office." 

Mac  Tavish  leaped  from  his  stool  and  marched 
toward  this  non-combatant.  "Whaur's  the  fire  o' 
yer  spunk,  Stewart  Morrison?" 

"Go  on,  Andy!"  permitted  the  master,  leaning 
back  in  his  chair. 

"Do  ye  allow  such  feckless  loons  to  coom  and 
beard  ye  in  yer  ain  castle?" 

"Andy,  if  I  were  playing  their  game,  as  they  call 
it,  I'd  say  that  I'm  going  to  give  'em  all  a  chance  to 
lay  their  cards,  face  up,  on  the  table.  But,  putting 
it  in  a  way  you  and  I  understand,  I'm  touching  a 
match  to  their  goods." 

Mac  Tavish  nodded  approvingly.  He  did  under- 
stand that  metaphor.  A  burning  match  will  not 
ignite  pure  wool;   threads  of  shoddy  will  catch  fire. 

"Aye!  The  fire  test  o'  the  fabric!  Well  and 
gude!  But  the  toe  o'  yer  boot  for  'em.  Such  was 
ca'd  for  when  he  said  ye  set  yer  ainsel'  in  the  way 
for  muckle  profeet ! " 

"Soft!  Soft  and  slow,  Andy,"  reproved  the 
master.     "There  may  be  some  truth  in  what  he 

said.     I'll  have  to  stop   right  here   and   do  some 

48 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

thinking  about  it!  A  chap  gets  to  slamming  ahead 
in  his  own  hne,  you  know.  All  of  us  ought  to  stop 
short  once  in  a  while  and  make  a  cold,  calm  estimate. 
Take  account  of  stock!  Balance  the  books!  Dis- 
cover how  much  of  it  is  for  ourselves,  personally, 
and  how  much  for  the  other  fellow!  No  telling  how 
the  figures  of  debit  and  credit  may  surprise  us!" 

He  spun  around  in  his  swivel  chair. 

"Lora,  get  Mr.  Blanchard  of  the  Conawin  Mills 
on  the  'phone,  that's  the  girl!'* 

"Yes,  Andy,  Fm  going  to  get  down  to  the  figures 
in  my  case!  I  hope  there's  a  balance  in  my  favor — 
but  we  never  can  tell!" 

He  set  his  elbows  on  his  desk  and  clutched  his 
hands  into  the  hair  above  his  temples.  Mac  Tavish 
tiptoed  away.  Morrison  had  apparently  prostrated 
himself  in  the  fane  of  figures;  in  the  case  of  Mac 
Tavish  figures  were  holy. 

"Mr.  Blanchard  on  the  *phone,  Mr.  Morrison," 
reported  Miss  Bunker. 

Morrison  put  questions,  quickly,  emphatically, 
searchingly.  He  listened.  He  hung  up.  "Memo., 
Miss  Bunker."  He  was  curt.  His  eyes  were  hard. 
One  observing  his  manner  and  hearing  his  tone 
would  have  realized  that  quarry  had  broken  covef 
and  that  Mr.  Blanchard  had  not  been  able  to  confuse 
the  trail  by  dragging  across  it  an  anise-bag;  in  fact, 
Morrison  had  said  so  over  the  telephone  just  before 
he  hung  up.  "Get  me  Cooper  of  the  Waverly, 
Finitter  of  the  Lorton  Looms,  Labarre  of  the  Bleach- 

49 


All-Wool  Morrison 

ery,  Sprague  of  the  Bates."  He  named  four  of  the 
great  textile  operators  of  the  river.  "One  after  the 
other,  as  I  finish  with  each ! " 

After  he  had  finished  with  all,  pondering  while  he 
waited  between  calls,  he  strode  to  Mac  Tavish  and 
brought  the  old  man  around  on  his  stool  by  a  clap 
on  the  shoulder.  "A  devil  of  a  mouser,  I  am! 
I've  been  sitting  purring  on  the  top  and  they  have 
hollowed  it  out  underneath  me." 

"Eh?     What.?" 

"The  cheese,  Andy,  the  water-power  cheese! 
They  have  been  playing  me  for  the  cat  in  the  case! 
Left  me  till  the  last,  left  me  sitting  on  an  empty 
shell!  The  mice  have  made  away  with  the  cheese 
from  under  me.  They  have  engineered  a  combine! 
There's  a  syndicate  a-forming!  It's  for  me  to  tumble 
down  among  'em  when  the  shell  caves.  I  was  right 
about  Despeaux!" 

"He's  Auld  Bartie,  wi'out  the  horns!" 

"Oh  no!  Not  as  smart  as  Satan,  Andy!  But 
smart,  nevertheless!  Very  smart.  He  has  shown 
'em  a  good  thing.  They're  ready  to  run  in!  And 
the  devil  take  the  hindmost.  I'm  the  hindmost  and 
I'd  better  get  a  gait  on." 

"But  the  company  ye'll  be  keeping!" 

"You  don't  suppose  that  I'll  run  away  from  the 
mice  instead  of  after  'em,  do  you  ? " 

"A  thoct  has  been  wi'  me,  Master  Morrison! 
May  I  speak  it.?" 

"Out  with  it!" 

so 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

"Ye'll  ne'er  find  a  better  chance  to  break  from  the 
kin  o'  Auld  Cloven  Cootie  and  mind  yer  ain  wi' 
the  claith  business!     Resign!" 

"It's  good  advice,  backed  up  by  a  good  excuse, 
Andy!" 

"And  noo  that  I  may  speak  freely,"  rattled  on  the 
old  man,  after  a  gasp  of  delight,  "I  can  tell  ye  how 
I  hae  been  list'nin'  for  yer  interests  till  ten  o'  the 
clock  each  forenoon,  and  the  dyvor  loons — deil 
tak'  it,  and  here  cooms  back  one  o'  the  waurst  o'  the 
widdifu's." 

It  was  the  Hon.  Calvin  Dow  and  Morrison  hurried 
to  meet  him.     "Sum  it  short,  Uncle  Calvin!" 

"They're  going  to  play  straight  politics,  Stewart." 

"God  save  the  state — in  times  like  these!" 

"They're  going  to  admit  to  seats  only  the  Senators 
and  Representatives  who  are  clearly  and  indisputably 
elected  by  the  face  of  the  returns." 

"The  picked  and  the  chosen!"  scoffed  Morrison, 

"The  matter  of  the  right  to  take  seats  is  going  to 
be  referred  to  the  full  bench  instead  of  being  left 
to  the  legislature — taken  out  of  politics,  they 
say." 

"Going  to  be  put  into  cold  storage,  with  all  due 
respect  to  our  eminent  justices!" 

"It  means  the  careful  weighing  of  evidence — and 
the  courts  are  obliged  to  move  with  judicial  slowness, 
Stewart!" 

"And  in  the  mean  time  those  picked  and  chosen 
ones  will  elect  the  state  officers  whom  the  legislature 

SI 


All-Wool  Morrison 

has  the  power  to  name,  will  have  the  machinery  to 
distribute  all  state  patronage  and  to  make  the 
legislative  committees  safe  for  the  big  measures. 
There's  no  telling  when  the  bench  will  hand  down  a 
decision." 

"No  telling,  Stewart!"  admitted  the  sage. 

"After  it  has  been  done,  it  will  be  hard  to  undo 
it,  no  matter  what  the  judges  may  decide  as  to 
members." 

**  But  we  can't  throw  the  law  out  of  the  window, 
my  son !  On  the  outside  of  the  thing,  the  Big  Boys 
on  Capitol  Hill  are  playing  the  game  strictly  accord- 
ing to  the  legal  rules.  The  legal  rules,  understand! 
On  the  outside!"  Dow's  emphasis  on  certain  words 
was  significant.  He  put  up  his  hand  and  drew  Mor- 
rison's head  down  close  to  his  mouth.  He  began  to 
whisper. 

"Talk  out  loud,  Calvin!"  commanded  Stewart, 
jerking  away.  "Keep  in  the  habit  of  talking  out 
loud  with  me!  I  won't  even  talk  politics  in  a 
whisper." 

"It  really  shouldn't  be  talked  out,  not  at  this 
time,"  expostulated  Dow,  wedded  to  the  old  ways. 
"I  have  had  to  burrow  deep  for  it.  It  ought  to  be 
saved  carefully — to  do  business  with  later!  To  win 
a  stroke  in  poHtics  it's  necessary  to  jump  the  people 
with  a  sensation!" 

"Try  it  on  me!  I'm  one  of  the  people.  See  if  it 
will  work,"  insisted  Morrison,  after  the  manner  of 
his  methods  with  Despeaux. 

52 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

"They  propose  to  go  according  to  the  strict  letter 
of  the  law.'* 

"Important  but  not  sensational." 

Dow  was  plainly  having  hard  work  to  keep  his 
voice  above  a  whisper.  "Returns  not  properly 
sworn  to  or  not  attested  in  due  form  by  city  clerks, 
returns  not  signed  in  open  town  meeting  or  other- 
wise defective  on  account  of  strictly  technical  errors, 
no  matter  how  plainly  the  intent  of  the  voters  was 
registered,  have  been  finally  and  definitely  thrown 
out  by  North  and  his  executive  council,  acting  as  a 
canvassing  board." 

"Damn'd  picayune  hair-splitting!  Why  can't 
they  use  business  horse-sense?" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  they've  used!  They've  used 
Tim  Snell  and  Waddy  Sturges  and  a  few  other  safe 
hounds  with  muffled  paws  to  run  around  and  lug 
back  to  cities  and  towns  deficient  returns  and  have 
*em  quietly  and  secretly  corrected  where  it  was  a 
case  of  adding  a  safe  man  to  the  legislature.  I 
know  that,  Stewart.  I  know  how  to  make  some  of 
my  close  friends  brag  to  me.  I  know  it,  but  I  can't 
prove  it.  Clean-scrubbed  are  the  faces  of  those 
returns.  They'll  show  up  to-morrow  like  the  faces 
of  the  good  boys  on  the  first  day  at  school." 

"That's  North's  idea  of  that  game  he  was  talking 
about,  is  it?"  Morrison  exploded.  "I  don't  believe 
that  Senator  Corson  knows  about  those  dirty  details, 
or  is  a  party  to  *em." 

"Well,"  asserted  the  Hon.  Calvin  Dow,  stroking 

S3 


All-Wool  Morrison 

his  nose  contemplatively,  "  Jodrey  and  I  used  to  cut 
sharp  corners  on  two  wheels  of  the  four  of  the  old 
wagon,  in  past  times  when  he  was  a  politician.  But 
now  that  he's  a  statesman  he  doesn't  like  to  be 
bothered  by  details." 

"Do  you  see  any  joke  to  this,  Calvin?"  demanded 
Morrison,  not  relishing  the  veteran's  chuckle. 

**I  can't  help  seeing  the  humor,"  confessed  Dow, 
blandly.  "The  other  boys  would  be  grinding  the 
same  grist  if  they  had  control  of  the  machinery. 
It's  only  what  I  myself  used  to  do."  Then  his 
face  became  grave.  "But,  confound  it!  in  these 
days  there  seems  to  be  an  element  that  can't  take  a 
joke  in  politics.     There's  trouble  in  the  air!'* 

"Probably!"  agreed  Morrison,  dryly. 

Dow  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out  with 
the  air  of  a  man  who  wanted  proof  to  confirm  a 
statement.  "I  reckon  I'll  let  you  be  informed  di- 
rect from  Trouble  Headquarters,  Stewart.  Head- 
quarters was  at  the  Soldiers'  Memorial  in  the  park 
when  I  came  past.  I  gathered  that  they  were  picking 
out  a  delegation  to  call  on  you.  Post-Commander 
Lanigan  of  the  American  Legion  was  doing  the 
picking.  He's  heading  the  bunch  that  I  see  coming 
across  the  street." 

"Resign!"  barked  Mac  Tavish  through  his  wicket. 
But  the  mayor  of  Marion  did  not  appear  to  hear, 
nor  Calvin  Dow  to  understand. 

Morrison  faced  the  door  of  his  office. 

Lanigan  led  in  his  companions  with  the  marching 

54 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

stride  of  an  overseas  veteran  and  halted  them  with 
a  top-sergeant's  yelp.  Click  o'  heels  and  snap  o* 
the  arm!  The  salute  made  Captain  Sweetsir's 
previous  effort  seem  torpid  by  comparison.  That  a 
further  comparison  with  Home  Guard  methods  and 
morale  was  in  Commander  Lanigan's  mind  became 
promptly  evident. 

"Your  Honor  the  Mayor,  we  represent  John  P. 
Dunn  Post,  American  Legion,  and  the  independent 
young  men  of  this  city  in  general.  May  we  have 
a  word  with  you?" 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Commander!" 

In  the  stress  of  his  emotions  Lanigan  immediately 
sloughed  off  his  official  air.  "It's  a  hell  of  a  note 
when  a  bunch  of  sissy  slackers  can  keep  real  soldiers 
ten  feet  from  the  door  of  the  city  armory  at  the  end 
of  a  bayonet." 

The  mayor  strolled  over  and  placed  a  placatory 
palm  on  the  shoulder  of  the  spokesman.  **  What's 
all  the  row,  Joe?    Let's  not  get  excited!" 

"I  have  been  away  fighting  for  liberty  and  justice 
and  I  don't  know  what's  been  going  on  in  politics 
at  home.    I  don't  know  anything  about  politics." 

"Nor  I,  Joe,  so  let's  not  try  to  discuss  'em.  What 
else?" 

"They've  got  three  machine-guns  up  in  our 
State  House.  What  for?  They  are  going  to  put  in 
them  sissy  slackers — " 

"Let's  not  call  names,  Joe.  Those  boys  would 
have  followed  you  across  if  you  boys  hadn't  been  so. 
5  55 


All-Wool  Morrison 

all-fired  smart  that  you  cleaned  it  all  up  in  a  hurry! 
What  else?" 

"Why  have  a  gang  of  politicians  got  to  barricade 
our  State  House  against  the  people?" 

"Let's  keep  cool,  Joe,  my  boy,  and  find  out." 

"They  won't  let  us  in  to  find  out.  How  are  we 
going  to  find  out?" 

"Why,  I  was  thinking  of  doing  something  in  that 
line — thinking  about  it  just  before  you  came  in." 

Lanigan  looked  relieved,  also  a  bit  ashamed. 
"Excuse  me  for  being  pretty  hot,  Mr.  Morrison. 
But  the  boys  have  been  saying  we  couldn't  depend 
on  anybody  to  stand  up  for  the  people.  By  gad!  I 
told  'em  we'd  come  to  you.  Says  I,  *  All- Wool 
Morrison  is  our  kind ! ' " 

"I  hope  the  name  fits  the  goods,  Joe!  Suppose 
you  boys  keep  all  quiet  and  calm  for  the  good  name 
of  the  city  and  let  me  find  out  how  the  thing  stands?" 

He  was  assured  of  support  and  compUance  by  a 
chorus  of  voices. 

Lanigan  trailed  the  chorus  in  solo.  "Does  that 
settle  it?  I'll  say  it  does.  It's  up  to  you — the 
whole  thing.  You've  given  us  the  word  of  a  square 
man!  We  can  depend  on  you.  And  we  thank  you 
for  taking  the  full  responsibility  for  seeing  to  it  that 
the  people  get  theirs — and  not  in  the  neck,  either!" 

But  the  mayor  looked  like  a  man  who  had  stretched 
forth  his  hand  to  take  a  kitten  and  had  had  an  ele- 
phant tossed  at  him.  "It's  a  pretty  big  contract, 
that!    See  here,  Joe — " 

S6 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

"You're  good  for  any  contract  you  take  on,  sir! 
We  should  worry  after  what  you  promise!"  He 
whirled  on  his  heels.  "'Bout  face!  Forward, 
march!"  He  followed  them  and  turned  at  the 
door.  "All  the  rest  of  the  Big  Ones  seem  to  be  too 
almighty  busy  to  bother  with  the  common  folks 
to-day,  sir!  The  Governor  with  his  politics,  the 
adjutant-general  with  his  tin  soldiers,  and  the  high 
and  mighty  Senator  Corson  with  that  party  he's 
giving  to-night  so  as  to  spout  socially  the  news  that 
his  daughter  is  engaged  to  marry  a  millionaire 
dude.  Thank  God,  we've  got  a  man  who  'ain't 
taken  up  with  anything  of  that  sort  and  can  put  all 
his  mind  on  to  a  square  deal!" 

Morrison  did  not  turn  immediately  to  face 
the  three  persons,  his  familiars  in  the  office  of  St. 
Ronan's.  He  clasped  his  hands  behind  him  and 
went  to  the  window,  as  if  to  survey  the  departure 
of  the  delegation. 

"What  with  one  thing  and  another,  they're 
loading  the  boy  up — they're  piling  it  on,"  observed 
Dow  to  Mac  Tavish  in  sympathetic  undertone. 

"He'll  resign  out  o'  the  meeser-r-rable  pother," 
growled  Mac  Tavish.  "The  word  he  just  gied  the 
gillies!  It  was  as  much  as  to  say,  *ril  be  coomin* 
along  wi'  ye  from  noo  on.*"  The  old  man's  hank- 
erings were  helping  his  persistent  hope,  in  spite 
of  his  respect  for  the  Morrison  trait  of  devotion 
to  duty. 

"Resign,  Andy!    Confound  it,  he's  only  nailing 

57 


All-Wool  Morrison 

his  grit  to  the  mast  and  planning  on  what  end  of  the 
row  to  tackle  first.     You'll  see!" 

Stewart  walked  slowly,  meditating  deeply,  went 
through  the  opening  in  the  rail,  sat  down  at  his  desk 
and  fumbled  in  a  drawer  and  sought  deeply  under 
many  papers.    He  brought  out  a  book,  a  worn  volume. 

Calvin  Dow,  daring  to  peer  more  closely  than  Miss 
Bunker  or  Mac  Tavish  had  the  courage  to  venture, 
noted  that  the  place  to  which  Morrison  opened  was 
marked  by  a  slip  of  paper,  a  snapshot  photograph. 

"Miss  Bunker!"  called  the  master.    "A  memo.!" 

She  came  with  her  note-book  and  sat  at  the  lid  of 
the  desk,  facing  him. 

"His  resignation,  I  tell  ye,"  whispered  Mac  Tavish. 
"I  ken  the  look  o'  detar-rmination ! " 

**I  want  it  typed  on  a  narrow  strip  that  I  can 
slip  into  my  pocketbook,"  stated  Stewart.  Then, 
to  all  appearances  entirely  unconcerned  with  the 
listening  veterans,  he  dictated: 

"Meanwhile  I  was  thinking  of  my  first  love, 

As  I  had  not  been  thinking  of  aught  for  years. 
Till  over  my  eyes  there  began  to  move 
Something  that  felt  like  tears." 

Mac  Tavish  bent  on  Dow  a  wild  look  and  swapped 
with  the  old  pensioner  of  the  Morrisons  a  stare  of 
amazement  for  one  of  bewildered  concern. 

"I  thought  of  the  dress  that  she  wore  last  time 
When  we  stood  'neath  the  cypress-tree  together 
In  that  lost  land,  in  that  soft  clime. 
In  the  crimson  evening  weather. 
S8 


The  Morrison  Assumes  Some  Contracts 

"Of  that  muslin  dress  (for  the  eve  was  hot) 

And  her  warm  white  neck  in  its  golden  chain. 
And  her  full,  soft  hair,  just  tied  in  a  knot, 
And  falling  loose  again. 

"I  thought  of  our  little  quarrels  and  strife. 

And  the  letter  that  brought  me  back  my  ring. 
And  it  all  seemed  then,  in  the  waste  of  life. 
Such  a  very  little  thing." 


The  girl  dabbed  up  her  hand  under  pretense  of 
fixing  a  lock  of  hair;  she  scrubbed  away  tears  that 
were  trickling.  So  this  was  it!  The  powwow 
over  business  and  politics  had  not  been  stirring  even 
languid  interest  in  her.  Now  her  emotions  were 
rioting.  Here  seemed  to  be  something  worth  while 
in  the  life  of  the  master! 


**But  I  will  marry  my  own  first  love 

With  her  primrose  face;  for  old  things  are  best. 
And  the  flower  in  her  bosom  I  prize  it  above — 


"My  God!"  Mac  Tavish  gasped.  "Next  he'll 
be  playing  jiggle-ma-ree  wi'  dollies  on  his  desk! 
His  wits  hae  gane  agley!" 

In  the  horror  of  his  discovery  he  flung  his  arms 
and  knocked  off  the  desk  his  full  stock  of  paper- 
weight ammunition.  Then  he  was  convinced  beyond 
doubt  that  the  Morrison  was  daft.  Stewart  did 
not  even  raise  his  eyes  from  the  book;  he  kept  on 
dictating  above  the  clatter  of  the  rolling  weights; 
his  intentness  on  the  matter  in  hand  was  that  of  a 

59 


All-Wool  Morrison 

business  man  putting  a  proposition  on  paper  for  the 
purpose  of  making  it  definite  and  cogent  and  clear. 

But  Stewart's  thoughts  were  not  at  all  clear,  he 
was  confessing  to  himself;  in  spite  of  his  assumed 
indifference,  he  was  embarrassed  by  the  focused 
stares  of  Dow  and  Mac  Tavish.  He  wondered 
what  sudden,  devil-may-care  whimsy  was  this  that 
was  galloping  him  away  from  business  and  politics 
and  every  other  sane  subject!  He  was  conscious 
that  there  was  in  him  a  freakish  and  juvenile  hanker- 
ing to  astonish  his  friends. 

He  heard  Dow  say:  "Oh,  don't  worry  about  the 
boy,  Andy!  We  do  strange  things  in  big  times! 
Even  Nero  fiddled  when  Rome  was  burning!'* 

Stewart  finished  the  dictation  and  closed  the  book. 

"Losh!  I  canna  understand!'*  mourned  Mac 
Tavish,  not  troubling  to  hush  his  tones. 

The  girl  hesitated,  her  gaze  on  her  notes.  Then 
she  looked  full  into  Morrison*s  face,  all  her  woman*s 
intuitive  and  long-repressed  sympathy  in  her 
brimming  eyes.  "But  I  understand,  sir!"  She 
arose.  She  extended  her  hand  and  when  he  took  it 
she  put  into  her  clasp  of  his  fingers  what  she  did  not 
presume  to  say  in  words. 

"Thank  you!"  said  Morrison. 

Then  he  left  his  chair  and  strolled  across  to  the 
old  men,  while  Miss  Bunker  rattled  her  typewriter. 
"It  begins  to  look,  boys,  like  we're  going  to  have 
quite  a  large  evening!"  he  remarked,  sociably. 


IV 

ANSWERING  THE   FIRST  ALARM 

AFTER  his  dinner  with  his  mother,  Stewart 
***■  went  to  the  Hbrary-den,  his  own  room,  the 
habitat  consecrated  to  the  males  of  the  Morrison 
menage.  He  was  in  formal  garb  for  the  reception 
at  Senator  Corson's.  He  removed  and  hung  up  his 
dress-coat  and  pulled  on  his  house-jacket;  he  was 
prompted  to  make  this  precautionary  change  by  a 
woolen  man's  innate  respect  for  honest  goods  as 
much  as  he  was  by  his  desire  for  homely  comfort 
when  he  smoked.  He  lighted  a  jimmy-pipe  and 
marched  up  and  down  the  room.  He  was  deter- 
mined to  give  the  situation  a  good  going-over  in  his 
mind. 

He  had  settled  many  a  problem  in  that  old  room! 

He  was  always  helped  by  Grandfather  Angus  and 
Father  David. 

When  he  walked  in  one  direction  he  was  looking 
at  the  portrait  of  Angus  on  the  end  wall  of  the  long 
narrow  room;  Angus  bored  him  with  eyes  as  hard  as 
steel  buttons  and  out  from  the  close-set  lips  seemed 
to  issue  many  an  aphorism  to  put  the  grit  into  a  man. 

6i 


All-Wool  Morrison 

From  the  opposite  wall,  when  Morrison  whirled 
on  his  heels,  David  looked  down.  David's  eyes  had 
little,  softening  scrolls  at  the  corners  of  them;  the 
artist  had  painted  from  life,  in  the  case  of  David, 
and  had  caught  the  glint  of  humor  in  the  eyes.  The 
picture  of  Angus  had  been  enlarged  from  a  daguerre- 
otype and  seemed  to  lack  some  of  the  truly  human 
qualities  of  expression.  But  it  was  a  strong  face, 
the  face  of  a  pioneer  who  had  come  into  a  strange 
land  to  make  his  way  and  to  smooth  that  way  for 
the  children  who  were  to  have  life  made  easier  for 
them.  "Tak'  it!  Wi'  all  the  strength  o*  ye,  reach 
oot  and  tak'  it  for  yer  ainsel '  else  ithers  will  gr-rasp 
ahead  and  snigger  at  ye!"  So  said  Angus  from  the 
wall,  whenever  Stewart  pondered  on  problems. 

But  David,  though  the  pictured  countenance  was 
resolute  enough,  always  put  in  a  shrewd  and  cau- 
tionary amendment,  whenever  Stewart  came  down 
the  room,  stiffened  by  the  counsel  of  Angus,  "Mind 
ye,  laddie,  when  ye  tak',  that  the  mon  wha  tak's 
slidd'ry  serpents  to  tussle  wi'  *em,  he  haes  nae  hand 
to  use  for  his  ainsel'  whilst  the  slickit  beasties  are 
alive;   and  a  deid  snake  serves  nae  guid." 

That  evening  Stewart  was  distinctly  getting  no 

help  from  either  Angus  or  David.     They  did  not 

appear  to  understand  his  new  and  peculiar  mood. 

He  had  been  in  the  habit  of  fusing  their  clashing 

arbitraments  by  a  humor  of  his  own  which  he  knew 

was  fantastic,  yet  helpful  according  to  his  whimsical 

custom,  welding  their  judgments  twain   into  one 

63 


Answering  the  First  Alarm 

dominant  counsel  of  determination,  softened  by  the 
spirit  of  fairness. 

But  after  he  had  plucked  a  certain  slip  of  paper 
from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  squinting  at  it  through 
the  pipe  smoke,  as  he  walked  to  and  fro,  mumbling 
as  if  he  were  engaged  in  the  task  of  memorizing,  he 
ceased  to  look  up  to  Angus  and  David  for  assistance. 
He  was  sure  they  would  not  know!  Here  were  warp 
and  woof  of  a  fabric  beyond  their  ken.  He  would 
not  admit  to  himself  that  he  understood  in  full 
measure  this  emotion  that  had  come  surging  up  in 
him,  overwhelming  and  burying  all  the  ordinarily 
steadfast  landmarks  by  "yvhich  he  regulated  his 
daily  thoughts  and  actions.  **I  had  built  a  dam," 
he  muttered,  using  the  metaphor  that  was  natural, 
"and  I've  been  thinking  it  was  safe  and  sure. 
Whether  it  wasn't  strong  enough — ^whether  it  was 
undermined,  I  don't  know.     It  has  given  way." 

There  was  a  tap  on  the  door  and  he  hastily  tucked 
the  paper  back  into  his  pocket.  He  knew  it  was  his 
mother,  trained  in  the  way  of  the  Morrisons  to 
respect  the  sanctuary  of  the  family  lairds  when 
they  were  paying  their  devotions  at  the  shrine  of 
business. 

"I'm  saying  my  gude  nicht  to  ye,  baimie,  for 
ye're  telling  me  ye'll  no'  be  hame  till  late,"  she  said 
when  he  flung  open  the  door. 

He  copied  affectionately  her  Scotch  "braidness" 
of  dialect  when  they  were  alone  together.  "No,  wee 
mither,  not  till  late." 


All-Wool  Morrison 

He  stepped  out  into  the  corridor  and  kissed  her. 
She  patted  his  cheek  and  walked  on. 

More  of  that  whimsy  into  which  he  had  been 
allowing  his  troubled  emotions  to  lead  him!  He 
realized  it  fully!  His  brow  wrinkled,  he  shook  his 
head,  but  he  called  to  her.  He  went  to  meet  her 
when  she  returned. 

"It's  like  it  is  at  the  oflBce,  these  days!  I'm 
Morrison  of  St.  Ronan's  on  one  side  o*  the  rail; 
I'm  the  mayor  of  Marion  on  t'other!  Here  in  the 
corridor,  ye're  wee  mither!"  He  put  his  arm  about 
her  and  lifted  her  into  the  library.  "Coom  awa' 
wi'  ye,  noo!"  he  cried.  He  threw  himself  into  a 
big  chair  and  pulled  her  upon  his  knee.  "Ye're 
Jeanie  Mac  Dougal — only  a  woman.  I  need  to 
talk  wi'  a  woman.  I  canna  talk  wi'  Mac  Tavish  or 
sic  as  he.  He  thinks  I'm  daft.  He  said  so.  I  canna 
get  counsel  frae  grands'r  or  sire  yon  on  the  walls. 
They  don't  understand,  Jeanie  Mac  Dougal.  I'm 
in  love!" 

"Ayel    Wi'  the  lass  o'  the  Corsonsl" 

**But  ye  shouldna  sigh  when  ye  say  it,  Jeanie 
Mac  Dougal." 

"A  gashing  guidwife  sat  wi'  me  to-day  in  the  ben, 
baimie,  and  said  the  lass  brings  her  ain  laddie  wi* 
her  frae  the  great  town.** 

"I  tak'  no  gossip  for  my  guide!"  he  protested. 

**In  business  I  tak'  my  facts  only  frae  the  lips  o'  the 

one  I  ask.    I'll  do  the  same  in  love." 

She  did  not  speak. 

64 


Anszaering  the  First  Alarm 

"I  know,  Jeanie  Mac  Dougall  Ye  canna  for- 
get ye  are  wee  mither  and  it's  hard  for  ye  to  be 
only  woman  richt  noo.  I  know  the  kind  of  wife 
ye  hae  in  mind  for  me.  The  patient  wife,  the 
housewife,  the  meek  wife  wi'  only  her  een  for 
back-and-ben,  for  kitchen  and  parlor.  But  I  love 
Lana." 

"She  promised  and  she  took  her  promise  back! 
Again  she  promised,  and  again  she  took  it  back!" 
The  proud  resentment  of  a  mother  flamed.  "And 
I'm  no'  content  wi*  the  lass  who  once  may  win  my 
laddie's  word  and  doesna  treasure  it  and  be  thankfu' 
and  proud  for  all  the  years  to  come." 

"Oh,  I  know,  mither!  But  she  was  young.  She 
must  needs  wonder  what  there  was  in  the  world 
outside  Marion.     I  loved  her  just  the  same." 

"But  noo  that  she  is  hame  they  tell  me  that  her 
heid  'tis  held  perkit  and  her  speech  is  high  and  the 
polished  shell  is  o'er  all." 

Stewart  looked  away  from  his  mother's  frank  eyes. 
He  was  too  honest  to  argue  or  dispute.  "I  love  her 
just  the  samel" 

"She  ca'd  wi'  her  father  at  the  mill  this  day,  ehr 
The  guidwife  said  as  much." 

"Aye,  in  the  way  o'  politeness!"  He  remembered 
that  the  politeness  seemed  too  elaborate,  too  florid, 
altiloquent  to  the  extent  of  insincerity.  "To  see 
her  again  is  to  love  her  the  more,"  he  insisted.  "I 
have  never  been  to  Washington.  Probably  I'd  be 
able  to  understand  better  the  manners  one  is  obliged 


All-Wool  Morrison 

to  put  on  there,  if  I  had  been  to  Washington.  T 
ought  to  have  gone  there  on  my  vacation,  instead 
of  into  the  woods.  I'm  afraid  I  have  been  keeping 
in  the  woods  too  much!" 

"  But  did  she  talk  high  and  flighty  to  you,  bairnie  ? " 

"It  meant  nowt  except  it's  the  way  one  must  talk 
when  great  folks  stand  near  to  hear.  The  Governor 
was  there!'*  he  said,  lamely. 

"That  was  unco  trouble  to  mak'  for  hersel'  in  the 
hearing  o'  that  auld  tyke  whose  tongue  is  as  rough 
as  his  gruntle!'* 

"Still,  he's  the  Governor  in  spite  of  his  phiz,  and 
that  shows  her  tact  in  getting  on  well  with  the  dig- 
nitaries, Jeanie  Mac  Dougal,  and  you're  a  woman 
and  must  praise  the  wit  of  the  sex.  She  has  seen 
much.  She  has  been  obliged  to  do  as  the  others 
do.  But  good  wool  is  ne'er  the  waur  for  the  finish 
of  it!  My  faith  is  in  her  from  what  I  know  of  the 
worth  o'  her  in  the  old  days.  And  now  that  she  has 
seen,  she  can  understand  better.  Yes,  back  here 
at  home  she'll  be  able  to  understand  better.  Listen, 
Jeanie  Mac  Dougal!"  He  fumbled  in  his  pocket. 
"Here's  a  bit  of  a  poem.  I  have  loved  it  ever  since 
she  recited  it  at  the  festival  when  she  was  a  little 
girl.  You  have  forgotten — I  remember!  And  here's 
one  verse: 

"And  I  think,  in  the  lives  of  most  women  and  men, 

There's  a  moment  when  all  would  go  smooth  and  even, 
If  only  the  dead  could  find  out  when 
To  come  back  and  be  forgiven." 
66 


Answering  the  First  Alarm 

"But  I  would  change  it  to  read,  *If  only  we  all 
could  find  out  when,'"  he  proceeded.  "It  wasn't 
all  her  fault,  mother.  I  was  younger,  then.  I'm 
old  enough  now  to  be  humble.  She  is  home  again, 
and  I'm  going  to  ask  to  be  forgiven!" 

Then  the  telephone-bell  called. 

He  lifted  her  gently  off  his  knee  and  stood  up. 
"As  to  the  lad  who  is  here  with  his  father!  Gossip 
is  playing  all  sorts  of  capers  this  day,  wee  mither! 
And  do  not  be  worried  if  gossip  of  another  sort  comes 
to  you  after  I'm  gone  this  evening.  There  may  be 
matters  in  the  city  for  me  to  attend  to  as  mayor. 
If  I'm  not  home  you'll  know  that  I'm  attending  to 
them." 

He  went  to  the  telephone,  replied  to  an  inquiring 
voice  and  listened  intently,  and  then  he  assented 
with  heartiness. 

"It's  Blanchard  of  the  Conawin  Mills!  He  has  a 
bit  of  business  with  me  and  offers  to  take  me  along 
with  him  to  the  reception.  Tell  Jock  he'll  not  have 
to  bother  with  my  car!"  he  said,  coming  to  her 
where  she  waited  at  the  door.  She  had  picked  up 
the  slip  of  paper  which  he  had  dropped  in  his  haste 
to  attend  to  the  telephone. 

"I  daured  to  peep  at  yer  bit  poem,  Stewart,  so 
that  my  ear  might  not  seem  to  be  put  to  o'erhearing 
your  business  discourse,"  she  apologized,  stanch 
in  her  adherence  to  the  rules  of  the  Morrisons. 
"And  I'll  tell  ye  that  Jeanie  Mac  Dougal  says  aye 
to  one  sentiment  I  hae  found  in  it." 

67 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Good!     Read  it  aloud  to  me,  that's  my  own 
girlie!"     He  folded  his  arms  and  shut  his  eyes. 
She  read  in  tones  that  thrilled  with  conviction: 

**The  world  is  filled  with  folly  and  sin 

And  love  must  cling  where  it  can,  I  say; 
For  Beauty  is  easy  enough  to  win. 
But  one  isn't  loved  every  day." 

She  tucked  the  paper  into  the  fingers  of  his  hand 
that  lay  lightly  along  his  arm.  He  opened  his  eyes 
and  gazed  down  into  her  straightforward  ones. 

"Whoever  may  be  the  lass  my  bairnie  loves  will 
be  honored  by  that  love;  aye,  and  sanctified  by 
that  love!  And  sic  a  lass  will  deserve  from  Jeanie 
Mac  Dougal  a  smile  at  our  threshold  and  respect  in 
our  hame."  She  went  away.  Her  eyes  were  dim 
with  unshed  tears;  but  she  held  her  chin  high  and 
trailed  her  bit  of  a  train  with  dignity. 

Morrison  folded  the  paper  and  put  it  away.  He 
took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  long  room,  confronting 
the  portrait  faces  in  turn.  He  eyed  them  as  if  he 
were  approaching  them  on  a  matter  where  there  now 
could  be  a  better  understanding  than  on  the  subject 
suggested  by  the  slip  of  paper.  "I  don't  know 
whether  Blanchard  ought  to  be  kicked  or  coddled," 
he  confessed.  "He's  a  fair  sample  of  the  rest. 
They  don't  kick  so  often  in  these  days,  Grands'r 
Angus,  as  you  did  in  yours.  On  the  other  hand. 
Daddy  David,  there  has  been  too  much  coddling  in 
this  country,  lately,  by  the  cowardice  of  men  who 

68 


Answering  the  First  Alarm 

ought  to  know  better  and  the  coddling  has  con- 
tinued to  the  hurt  of  all  of  us!" 

He  sat  down  and  looked  at  the  clock;  the  face  of 
that  would,  at  least,  tell  him  something  definite: 
Blanchard  said  that  he  was  talking  from  the  club, 
around  the  corner,  and  would  be  along  in  five 
minutes. 
And  Blanchard  arrived  on  time! 
"I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  offended  by  what  you 
said  to  me  over  the  'phone  to-day,  Morrison.  I  was 
hurt,  at  any  rate!*' 

"SowasI!"  retorted  Stewart,  promptly.  "Hurt 
and  offended,  both!  So  we  start  from  the  scratch, 
neck  and  neck!" 

"  But  why  do  you  assume  that  attitude  on  account 
of  what  I  told  you?" 

"I  was  obliged  to  put  questions  to  you  in  order 
to  get  the  news  that  you  propose  to  hitch  up  with  a 
dominating  water-power  syndicate!" 

"Only  following  out  your  proposition  that  we 
must  get  down  to  development  in  this  state." 

"The  development  is  taking  care  of  itself.  Brother 
Blanchard.  As  chairman  of  the  water-power  com- 
mission, I  shall  submit  my  report  to  the  incoming 
legislature.  And  in  that  report  I  propose  to  make 
conservation  the  corollary  of  development." 

Blanchard  blinked  inquiringly.  "What  do  you 
mean  ? " 

"Why,  I  mean  just  this!     Putting  it  in  business 

terms,  I  propose  to  ask  for  legislation  that  will  make 

69 


All- Wool  Morrison 

the  public  the  partners  of  the  men  who  handle  and 
control  the  water-power." 

"I  don't  know  how  you're  going  about  to  do  that 
in  any  sensible  way,"  grumbled  the  other.  "There 
have  been  a  good  many  rumors  about  that  forth- 
coming report  of  yours,  Morrison.  What's  the  big 
notion  in  keeping  it  so  secret?" 

"I  have  been  ordered  to  report  to  the  legislature, 
Blanchard!  I  have  prepared  my  case  for  that  gen- 
eral court,  and  customary  deference  and  common 
politeness  in  such  matters  oblige  me  to  hold  my 
mouth  till  I  do  report  officially." 

"Nothing  to  be  hidden,  then?"  probed  the 
magnate. 

"Not  a  thing — not  when  the  proper  time  comes!" 

"But  we  have  been  left  guessing — and  I  don't  like 
the  sound  of  the  rumors.  You  must  expect  big  in- 
terests to  get  an  anchor  out  to  windward.  There's 
no  telling  what  a  damphool  legislature  will  do  in 
case  a  theory  is  put  up  and  there  are  no  sensible 
business  arguments  to  contradict  it." 

"As  owners  of  water-power,  Blanchard — ^you  and 
I — let's  bring  our  business  arguments  into  the  open 
this  year,  in  the  committee-rooms  and  on  the  floor 
of  the  House  and  Senate,  instead  of  in  the  buzzing- 
comers  of  the  lobby  or  down  in  the  hotel  button- 
holing boudoirs !  Now  we'll  get  right  down  to  cases ! 
You  have  been  leaving  me  out  of  your  conferences 
ever  since  I  refused  to  drop  my  coin  into  the  usual 

pool  to  hire  lobbyists.     I  take  the  stand  that  these 

70 


Answering  the  First  Alarm 

times  are  more  enlightened  and  that  we  can  begin 
to  trust  the  people's  business  to  the  people's  general 
court  in  open  sessions/* 

Blanchard  showed  the  heat  of  a  man  whose  con- 
science was  not  entirely  comfortable.  **Just  what 
is  this  people  idea  that  you're  making  so  much  of 
all  of  a  sudden,  Morrison?  People  as  partners, 
people  as  judges  —  people  —  people — "  Blanchard 
hitched  over  the  word  wrathfully. 

"People  be  damned?"  inquired  Stewart,  with  a 
provocative  grin. 

"There's  too  much  of  this  soviet  gabble  loose  these 
days.  It  all  leads  to  the  same  thing,  and  you've  got 
to  choke  it  for  the  good  of  this  government ! " 

"Right  you  are  to  a  big  extent,  Blanchard!  But 
just  now  we  are  talking  of  a  vital  problem  in  our 
own  state  and  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  sovietism." 

"But  you  spoke  of  making  the  people  our 
partners!" 

"I  merely  put  the  matter  to  you  in  a  nutshell,  for 
we'll  need  to  be  moving  on  pretty  quick!"  He 
glanced  at  the  clock.  He  threw  off  his  jacket  and 
pulled  on  his  coat. 

"Partners  how?" 

"It  will  be  explained  in  my  official  report,  as 
chairman  of  the  power  and  storage  commission." 

"I  don't  relish  the  rumors  about  what  that  report 
is  likely  to  recommend." 

"Rumors  are  prevalent,  are  they?" 

"Prevalent,  Morrison,  and  devilish  pointed,  too!" 
6  71 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"I  suppose  that's  why  the  old  horned  stags  of  the 
lobby  are  whetting  their  antlers/'  surmised  Morrison, 
giving  piquant  emphasis  to  his  remark  by  a  gesture 
toward  a  caribou  head,  a  trophy  of  his  vacation 
chase.  "I  have  heard  a  rumor,  too,  Blanchard. 
Are  they  going  to  introduce  legislation  to  abolish 
my  commission  and  turn  the  whole  water-power 
matter  over  to  the  public  utilities  commission?" 

Blanchard  flushed  and  said  he  knew  nothing  about 
any  such  move. 

"I'm  sorry  that  syndicate  isn't  taking  you  into 
their  confidence,"  sympathized  Morrison.  "I  know 
just  how  you  feel.  The  boys  who  ought  to  train 
with  me  are  not  taking  me  into  their  conferences, 
either!" 

"You  spoke  of  coming  down  to  cases!"  snapped 
Blanchard,  his  uneasy  conscience  getting  behind 
the  mask  of  temper.  "I  don't  ask  you  to  reveal  any 
oflScial  report.  But  can  you  tell  me  what  this 
'people-partners'  thing  is?" 

"I  can,  Blanchard,  because  it  isn't  anything  that 
is  specifically  a  part  of  the  report.  It's  principle, 
and  principle  belongs  in  everything.  I  merely 
apply  it  to  the  case  of  water-power  in  this  state." 

He  went  close  to  his  caller  and  beamed  down  on 
him  in  a  sociable  manner.  "I  rather  questioned  my 
own  good  taste  and  the  propriety  of  my  effort  to 
get  on  to  the  commission  and  be  made  its  chairman. 
As  an  owner  of  power  and  of  an  important  franchise 

I  might  be  considered  a  prejudiced  party.     But  I 

72 


Answering  the  First  Alarm 

hoped  I  had  established  a  bit  of  a  reputation  for 
square-dealing  in  business  and  I  wanted  to  feel  that 
my  own  kind  were  in  touch  with  me  and  would  have 
faith  that  I  was  working  hard  for  all  interests.  You 
and  I  can  both  join  in  damning  these  demagogues 
and  radicals  and  visionaries  and  Bolshevists.  We 
must  be  practical  even  when  we're  progressive, 
Blanchard." 

"Now  you're  talking  sense!" 

"I  hope  so!"  But  his  next  statement,  made  while 
the  millman  glared  and  muttered  oaths,  fell  far 
short  of  sanity  in  Blanchard's  estimation.  "I'm 
fully  convinced  that  one  of  the  inalienable  rights  of 
the  people  is  ownership  of  water-power.  We  fran- 
chise-proprietors ought  to  content  ourselves  with 
being  custodians,  managers,  lessees  of  that  power 
that  comes  from  the  lakes  that  God  alone  owns." 

"Are  you  putting  that  notion  in  your  confounded 
report.?'* 

"I  am." 

"Are  you  sticking  in  something  about  confis- 
cating the  coal  and  the  oil  and  the  iron  and — " 

"Oh  no!"  broke  in  Morrison,  calm  in  the  face  of 
fury.  "Those  particular  packages  all  seem  to  be 
nicely  tied  up  and  laid  on  the  shelf  out  of  the  people's 
reach.  And  whether  they  are  or  not  is  not  my  con- 
cern now.  I'm  only  a  little  fellow  up  here  in  a  small 
puddle.  Brother  Blanchard.  I'm  not  undertaking 
the  reorganization  of  the  world.  I'll  say  frankly 
that  I  don't  know  just  what  kind  of  legislation  in 

73 


All-Wool  Morrison 

regard  to  the  already  developed  water-power  in  this 
state  can  be  passed  and  be  made  constitutional. 
But  no\r  when  coal  is  scarcer  and  high,  or  monopo- 
lized, at  any  rate,  to  make  it  high  and  scarce  in  the 
market,  the  exploiters  are  turning  to  water-power 
possibilities  with  hearty  hankering,  and  the  people 
are  turning  with  hope.** 

"I'm  afraid  I'm  getting  hunks  out  of  that  report 
of  yours,  ahead  of  official  time." 

"You're  getting  the  principle  underlying  it — and 
you're  welcome." 

"Morrison,  the  idea  that  the  people  have  any 
overhead  right  and  ownership  in  franchise-granted 
and  privately  developed  water-power  is  ridiculous 
and  dangerous  nonsense." 

"It  does  sound  a  bit  that  way,  considering  the 
fact  that  the  people  of  this  state  have  never  even 
taxed  water-power,  as  such.  The  ideas  of  the 
fathers,  who  gave  away  the  power  for  nothing,  seem 
to  have  come  down  to  the  sons,  who  haven't  even 
woke  up  to  the  fact  that  it's  worth  taxing — ^yes, 
Blanchard,  taxing  even  to  the  extent  that  the  people 
will  get  enough  profits  from  the  taxation  to  make 
'em  virtual  partners!  And  as  to  the  millions  of 
horse-power  yet  to  be  developed,  let  the  profits  be 
called  lease-money  instead  of  taxation.  Then  we'll 
be  going  on  a  business  basis  without  having  the 
matter  everlastingly  muddled  and  mixed  and  lobbied 
in  politics!" 

Blanchard   knew   inflexibility   when   he   saw   it; 

74 


Answering  ike  First  Alarm 

and  he  knew  Stewart  Morrison  when  it  came  to 
matters  of  business.  He  did  not  attempt  argu- 
ment. "Well,  ril  be  good  and  cahootedly  con- 
demned!" he  exploded. 

"No,  you'll  be  helped  and  Til  be  helped  by  putting 
this  on  a  business  basis  where  the  radicals,  if  they 
grab  off  more  political  power,  won't  be  able  to  rip 
it  up  by  crazy  methods;  the  radicals  don't  know 
when  to  stop  when  they  get  to  reforming.'* 

"Radicals!  Confound  it,  it  looks  to  me  as  if  we 
had  one  of  'em  at  the  head  of  that  power  com- 
mission!    Morrison,  have  you  turned  Bolshevik?" 

"My  friend,"  expostulated  Stewart,  gently,  "when 
you  opposed  the  principle  of  prohibition  the  fanatics 
called  you  *  Rummy.'    The  name  hurt  your  feelings." 

"They  had  no  right  to  impugn  my  motives!" 

** Certainly  not!  It's  all  wrong  to  try  to  turn  a  trick 
by  sticking  a  slurring  name  on  to  conscientiousness." 

"You're  turning  around  and  hammering  your 
friends  and  associates,  no  matter  what  name  you 
put  on  it." 

"It  has  always  been  considered  perfectly  proper 
to  lobby  for  the  big  interests  in  this  state  for  pay! 
Why  shouldn't  I  lobby  for  the  people  for  nothing?" 

"You  and  I  are  the  people!  The  business  men 
are  the  people.  The  enterprising  capitalists  who 
pay  wages  are  the  people.     The  people  are — " 

He  halted;  the  telephone-bell  had  broken  in  on 
him. 

Morrison  apologized  with  a  smile  and  answered 

7S 


All-Wool  Morrison 

the  call.  He  sprawled  in  his  chair,  his  elbow  on  the 
table,  and  listened  for  a  few  moments.  "But 
don't  stutter  so,  Joe!"  he  adjured.  "Take  your 
time,  now,  boy!     Say  it  again!" 

He  attended  patiently  on  the  speaker. 

"They  won't  take  your  word  on  the  matter,  you 
say?  Why,  Joe,  that's  not  courteous  in  the  case 
of  an  American  Legion  commander!  Hold  onl  I 
can't  come  down  there!  I  have  to  attend  the 
reception  at  Senator  Corson's." 

He  listened  again  to  what  was  evidently  expostu- 
lation and  entreaty,  and,  while  he  listened,  he  gazed 
at  the  sullen  Blanchard  with  an  expression  of  mock 
despair. 

"Joe,  just  a  word  for  myself,"  he  broke  in.  "I'm 
afraid  you  have  pledged  me  a  little  too  strongly. 
You  went  off  half  cocked  this  afternoon!  Oh  no! 
I  don't  take  it  back.  I'm  not  a  quitter  to  that 
extent.  But  I  really  didn't  undertake  to  run  the 
whole  state  government,  you  know!  Those  folks 
up  on  Capitol  Hill  don't  need  my  advice,  they 
think!" 

With  patience  unabated  he  listened  again.  "If 
it's  that  way,  Joe,  I'll  have  to  come  down.  I'll 
certainly  never  put  an  honest  chap  in  bad  or  leave 
him  in  wrong,  when  a  word  can  straighten  the  thing. 
Hold 'em  there!     I'll  be  right  along!"     He  hung  up. 

"As  I  was  saying,"  persisted  Blanchard,  "the 
people — " 

Morrison  put  up  his  hand  and  shook  his  head. 

76 


Answering  the  First  Alarm 

"I  guess  we'd  better  hang  up  the  joint  debate  on  the 
people  right  here,  Blanchard!  What  say  if  you 
come  along  with  me  and  pick  up  a  few  facts  ?  The 
facts  may  give  you  a  new  light  on  your  theories.'* 
He  hastened  to  a  closet  and  secured  his  top-coat  and 
his  silk  hat. 

"Come  where?" 

"  Down  to  the  Central  Labor  Union  hall.  There's 
a  big  crowd  waiting  there." 

Blanchard  surveyed  his  own  evening  apparel  in  a 
mirror.  "I'm  headed  for  a  reception — not  the  kind 
I'd  get  as  the  head  of  the  Conawin  corporation  from 
a  labor  crowd." 

"Nevertheless,  I  urge  you  to  come  with  me.  I 
believe  that  a  little  contact  with  the  people  in  this 
instance  will  clear  your  thoughts." 

"Another  one  of  your  riddles!"  snorted  the  manu- 
facturer.    "What's  it  all  about?" 

"Blanchard,"  declared  Morrison,  setting  his  jaws 
grimly  while  he  pondered  for  a  moment  and  then 
coming  out  explosively,  "it's  about  what  we  may 
expect  from  the  people  when  damned  fools  try  to 
play  politics  according  to  the  old  rules  in  these  new 
times.  It's  about  what  we  may  expect  of  the 
people  when  they're  denied  a  showdown  by  men  at 
the  head  of  public  affairs.  There's  trouble  brewing 
in  the  city  of  Marion  to-night.  What  would  you 
do  if  you  happened  to  glance  out  of  your  office 
window  and  saw  a  leak  spurting  big  as  a  lead-pencil 
from  the  base  of  the  Conawin  dam?    You'd  know 

77 


All-Wool  Morrison 

the  leak  would  be  as  big  as  a  hogshead  in  a  few 
minutes,  wouldn't  you?" 

"Yes!'*  admitted  the  other. 

"You'd  get  to  that  leak  and  plug  it  mighty  quick, 
wouldn't  you  ? " 

"No  need  to  ask!" 

"Well,  this  is  a  hurry  call  and  I  need  your  help." 

"I  don't  stand  in  well  with  the  labor  crowd — ** 
demurred  Blanchard. 

"I  know  all  that!  You*re  hiring  too  many  aliens 
and  Red  radicals  in  your  mill!  But  you  ought  to 
have  some  influence  with  your  own  gang,  such  as 
they  are!  I  suspect  that  they're  the  leading  trouble- 
makers down  in  that  hall.  Blanchard,  if  you're  not 
afraid  of  your  own  men,  come  along!"  He  clapped 
the  millman  on  the  shoulder  and  led  the  way  toward 
the  door. 

"If  there  are  scalawags  starting  that  *  state  steal* 
howl  again  somebody  ought  to  tell  'em  that  there 
are  three  machine-guns  and  plenty  of  loaded  rifles 
on  Capitol  Hill  to-night,  and  the  men  behind  'em 
propose  to  shoot  to  kill,"  stated  Blanchard,  venge- 
fully,  shaking  his  silk  hat. 

Morrison  whirled  on  him.  "You're  just  the  man 
to  go  down  there  and  tell  *em  so!  You  probably 
have  inside  information.  All  I  know  is  hearsay! 
I'll  advise  *em  and  you  threaten  *em.  Come 
along,  Blanchard!    We'll  make  a  good  team!" 


THE   MEN   WHO   WERE   WAITING  TO   BE    SHOWN 

A  X  fHILE  Commander  Lanigan  talked  with  the 
'  '  mayor  from  a  telephone-booth  in  a  drug- 
store under  Central  Labor  Union  hall,  Post-Ad- 
jutant Demeter  stood  with  his  nose  pressed  against 
the  glass  door,  waiting  anxiously. 

Lanigan  pushed  open  the  door  with  one  hand  while 
he  hung  up  the  receiver  with  the  other,  and  by  his 
precipitate  exit  nigh  bowled  his  adjutant  over; 
Mr.  Lanigan,  it  was  plain  to  be  seen,  was  wound  up 
tightly  that  evening  and  his  mainspring  was  oper- 
ating him  by  jumps. 

"He's  the  boy!  He's  coming!  Tell  the  world  so! 
And  ril  go  back  up-stairs  and  tell  them  blistered 
sons  o'  seefo  that  there  are  such  things  as  truth  and 
a  bar  o*  soap  in  this  country,  spite  o'  the  fact  they 
have  never  used  either  one!" 

Demeter  followed  his  commander  into  the  street. 

In  spite  of  his  haste,  Lanigan  was  halted;    he 

gazed  up  into  the  heavens,  his  breath  streaming  on 

the  crackly-cold  air. 

The  skies  were  blazing  with  shuttlings  of  lambent 

79 


All-Wool  Morrison 

flame.  From  nadir  to  zenith  the  mystic  light  shiv- 
ered and  sheeted.  Never  had  Lanigan  beheld  a 
more  vivid  display  of  the  phenomenon  of  the  aurora 
borealis.  He  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  something. 
He  sighed  and  shook  his  head. 

"Peter,  my  heart  jumped  at  first  glimpse!  *Tis 
like  the  flash  of  the  Argonne  big  guns!  Thank 
God,  the  thunder  of  *em  isn't  following!" 

"Yes,  thank  God!"  murmured  Demeter,  his  soul 
in  his  tones!" 

They  stood  there  for  a  few  minutes,  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  the  contact  of  arm  with  arm  serving  for  an 
exchange  of  thoughts  between  those  veterans  in  a 
silence  that  would  have  been  profaned  by  words. 

The  phantasmagoria  overhead  was  shifting  in- 
finitely and  rapidly;  there  were  flashes  that  seemed 
to  presage  a  thunderous  roar  of  an  explosion  and 
were  more  bodeful  because  the  hush  aloft  in  the 
heavenly  spaces  remained  unbroken;  then  the  fila- 
ments and  streamers  of  light  made  one  mighty  ori- 
flamme  across  the  skies,  an  expanse  of  woven  hues, 
wavering  and  lashing  as  if  a  great  wind  were  threshing 
across  the  main  fabric  and  flinging  its  attendant 
bannerets. 

"It's  in  the  air;  it's  in  the  nerves!  It  puts  hell 
into  a  man,  doesn't  it,  Peter?'* 

"Yes!" 

"It  was  in  that  telephone  back  there!    It  crackled 

and  snapped!    A  lot  of  it  may  be  in  those  poor 

fools  up  in  that  hall — and  they  ain't  knowing  what 

80 


The  Men  Who  Were  Waiting  to  Be  Shown 

the  matter  is  with  *em!  You  and  I  have  been  over 
in  the  Big  Bow-wow,  boy,  and  we  have  had  some 
good  lessons  in  how  to  handle  rattled  nerves.  I 
guess  it's  up  to  us  to  hold  things  steady,  as  experts. 
Soothe  *em  and  smooth  'em!  It  was  All-Wool 
Morrison's  lesson  to  me  to-day!  Soft  and  careful 
with  'em,  seeing  that  they're  full  of  what's  in  the 
air  this  night,  and  don't  know  just  what  ails  'em!" 

He  lowered  his  gaze  from  the  skies.  A  man  was 
.  passing  on  his  way  toward  the  door  of  the  hall. 

Lanigan  had  just  laid  down  a  general  rule  of  diplo- 
matic conduct  for  the  evening,  but  he  made  a  prompt 
exception.  He  leaped  on  the  man^  struggled  with 
him  for  a  moment,  and  yanked  off  a  red  necktie, 
taking  with  it  the  man's  collar  and  a  part  of  his 
shirt.  "But  some  stuff  that  they're  full  of  can't 
be  smoothed  out — it's  got  to  be  whaled  out!" 
panted  Lanigan.  He  did  not  release  his  captive. 
"The  nerve  o'  ye,  parading  your  red  wattles  on  a 
night  like  this,  ye  Tom  Gobbler  of  a  Bullshevist!" 

**I  have  the  right  to  pick  the  color  of  my  own 
necktie!"  snarled  the  man. 

"Not  for  the  reason  why  you  picked  it!  Not  to 
wear  it  up  into  that  hall,  my  bucko  boy!" 

When  the  man  expostulated  with  oaths,  Lanigan 

tripped  him  and  held  him  on  the  sidewalk.     "Hush 

your  yawp!    You  can't  fool  me  about  your  taste  in 

ties!    I  know  what's  behind  that  color  like  I'd  know 

what's   behind    an   Orangeman's   yellow!     I    don't 

need  to  wait  for  him  to  hooray  for  the  battle  o'  the 

8i 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Boyne  ere  I  get  my  brick  ready!  Peter,  frisk  his 
pockets!" 

Demeter  obeyed. 

A  crowd  was  collecting.  Through  the  press 
rushed  a  young  man.     "Need  help,  Commander?" 

"Only  keep  your  eye  peeled  to  see  that  another 
Bullshevist  don't  sneak  up  and  kick  me  from  behind, 
after  the  like  o'  the  breed!" 

Demeter's  exploration  produced  a  bulldog  re- 
volver, a  slungshot,  a  packet  of  pamphlets,  and 
several  small  red  flags. 

"What's  your  name?"  demanded  the  commander. 

"No  business  of  yours!" 

Lanigan  kneeled  on  the  captive  and  roweled 
cruel  thumbs  into  the  man's  neck.  "Out  with  it 
before  I  dig  deeper  for  it." 

"Nicolai  Krylovensky!'* 

"I  knew  it  must  be  bad,  but  I  didn't  think  it  was 
as  bad  as  that!  I  don't  blame  ye  for  trying  to  keep 
it  mum!  And  ye  look  as  though  it  tasted  bitter 
coming  up.  I'll  not  poison  me  own  mouth."  He 
stood  up  and  yanked  the  man  to  his  feet.  "So  I'll 
call  ye  Bill  the  Bomber!  Where  do  ye  work,  or 
don't  ye  work.?" 

"Conawin!" 

"I  thought  so!  One  of  that  bunch  down  there 
that's  trying  to  undermine  the  best  government  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  Come  along!  I've  got  a  bit 
o'  business  on  hand  right  now  and  I  need  you  in  it." 

When  he  turned,  pushing  the  man  ahead  of  him, 

82 


The  Men  JVho  Were  Waiting  to  Be  Shown 

Lanigan  became  aware  that  the  young  fellow  who 
had  proffered  aid  was  muttering  in-  a  derogatory 
fashion. 

"What's  on  your  mind,  Jeff?"  demanded  the 
commander,  recognizing  a  member  of  the  post. 

"Nothing!" 

"I'm  in  an  inquiring  turn  o'  mind  right  now," 
rasped  Lanigan.  "And  ye  have  just  seen  me  go 
after  information,  I  heard  ye  damning  something. 
Ye'd  best  make  me  understand  that  you  wasn't 
damning  me!** 

"I  sure  wasn't,  sir!  But  as  for  this  government 
being  the  best,  I  want  to  say — " 

Lanigan's  yelp  broke  in  like  an  explosion.  "Hold 
this  Bullshevist,  Peter!    I  want  both  hands  free!" 

"I  wasn't  saying  anything  against  our  govern- 
ment. Commander  Lanigan!  Not  a  word!"  wailed 
the  overseas  man.     "So  help  me!" 

"I'm  in  a  soothing  frame  of  mind  this  night," 
returned  the  ex-sergeant.  "I  have  been  having 
some  good  lessons  in  soothing  from  the  mayor  of 
Marion,  God  bless  him!  I  was  nigh  making  a  fool 
of  myself  till  he  showed  me  that  the  soothing  way 
is  the  best  way.  And  I  shall  keep  right  on  soothing. 
But  this  is  a  night  when  the  plain  truth  and  the  word 
of  man-to-man  have  got  to  operate  to  prevent 
trouble!  And  I  want  the  truth  out  o'  ye,  Jeff 
Tolson,  or  else  ye'll  be  calling  for  toast,  well  soaked, 
in  the  hospital  in  the  morning!" 

"I  went  up  to  one  of  them  sissy  slackers — " 

83 


All'Wool  Morrison 

"Mind  the  kind  of  a  name  ye  stick  on  to  a  soldier 
of  the  government!  Do  ye  see  who's  Hstening?" 
He  grabbed  his  prisoner  again  and  shook  him.  "Be 
careful  of  what  you  say  as  an  American  citizen  in 
the  hearing  of  rats  like  this,  Tolson!  It  encourages 
'em.  They  think  we  mean  it.  Get  the  bile  out  of 
your  system  in  a  strictly  family  fuss!  Spit  out  a 
lot  you  don't  mean,  if  it's  going  to  make  you  feel 
better!  But  first  slam  down  the  windows  so  that 
the  outsiders  can't  overhear.     I'll  see  you  later!" 

"But  I  want  you  to  get  me  right,  Commander,'* 
Tolson  pleaded.  "I  went  up  to  one  of  the  boys  to 
show  him  how  to  hold  his  gun  and  he  banged  me 
with  the  butt  of  it!" 

"He  did!"  Lanigan  clicked  his  teeth  and  showed 
that  he  was  having  hard  work  to  control  his  own 
resentment. 

"I  was  only  trying  to  be  helpful.  I  tried  to  take 
his  gun  and  show  him.  And  he  insulted  an  overseas 
veteran ! " 

Lanigan  had  himself  in  hand  again.  "Tried  to 
take  away  his  gun,  you  say!  You  in  civies  and  he 
in  uniform  and  on  duty!  Jeff,  if  it's  that  hard  to 
wake  up  and  know  that  you're  no  longer  a  soldier,  I 
reckon  your  wrist-watch  is  acting  too  much  like 
a  reminder-string  around  a  Jane's  finger!  Better 
hang  it  from  the  end  of  your  nose.  It's  a  wonder  he 
didn't  give  you  the  bayonet!" 

"The  butt  was  aplenty,  sir!" 

"I  can  stand  it  better  to  be  banged  on  the  knob 

84 


The  Men  JVho  Were  Waiting  to  Be  Shown 

by  a  gun-butt  by  a  good  American  than  batted  in 
the  eye  by  this  color  on  a  Bullshevist!"  asserted 
Lanigan,  waving  the  red  necktie  that  he  still  re- 
tained in  his  clutch.  He  gave  the  owner  of  it  another 
push.     "Along  with  you.  Bill  the  Bomber." 

Tolson  trailed.  "But  what  are  they  trying  to 
do  up  on  Capitol  Hill,  sir?    What  does  it  all  mean?" 

"I  don*t  know,"  confessed  the  commander.  He 
drove  his  way  through  the  bystanders.  "You  see, 
boys,  I  have  started  in  along  the  way  of  telling  the 
truth  to-night.  So  I  own  up  that  I  don*t  know! 
We're  going  to  find  out  what  it  means!"  He  kept 
on  toward  the  door  of  the  hall  with  his  prisoner. 
"I've  arranged  to  have  a  man  come  down  here  and 
tell  us  what  it  means  and  tell  us  how  to  act." 

"Well,  he'll  know  more  than  anybody  else  I  have 
tackled  on  the  subject  to-night,"  said  Tolson,  sourly. 
"He's  a  wonder,  if  he  does  know!" 

"He's  All-Wool  Morrison — and  that's  your  answer, 
buddie,"  retorted  Lanigan.  And  that  answer  did 
seem  to  suffice  for  Tolson. 

There  were  many  men  on  the  stairs  leading  up  to 
the  hall,  and  the  elbowing  throng  at  the  door  of  the 
auditorium  furnished  further  evidence  of  the  over- 
flowing nature  of  the  gathering. 

"Gangway!"  commanded  Lanigan  at  the  top  of 
his  voice.  "Make  way,  there!  I'm  bringing  some- 
thing straight  in  my  mouth  and  something  crooked 
in  my  mit,  and  neither  one  of  'em  will  ye  have  till 
free  passage  is  made  to  the  platform." 

85 


All'Wool  Morrison 

The  crowd's  curiosity  served  effectively  to  clear 
that  passage. 

Lanigan's  captive  went  along,  sullenly  unresisting. 
There  was  no  opportunity  for  rebellion  in  that  mob 
that  opened  a  narrow  passage  grudgingly,  only  to 
pack  together  again  in  a  solid  mass.  But  certain 
men  whom  Krylovensky  passed  or  men  who  caught 
his  eye  by  swift  motions  spat  whispers  at  him  in  a 
language  that  Lanigan  did  not  understand. 

"Is  it  three  cheers  that  your  brother  rattle- 
snakes are  giving  ye  in  the  natural  hissing  way 
of  *em.^"  inquired  the  captor.  "They're  a  fine 
bunch!" 

With  his  hand  twisted  tightly  into  the  slack  of  the 
man's  coat  and  the  torn  shirt,  the  ex-sergeant  forced 
the  prisoner  up  the  short  stairs  that  conducted  to 
the  platform;  Demeter  followed. 

Tobacco  smoke  streamed  up  in  whirls  from  the 
banked  faces  that  filled  the  hall  from  side  to  side,  and 
the  eddying  clouds  floated  in  strata  above  the  rows 
of  heads.  Lanigan  peered  sternly  at  the  crowd 
through  the  haze.  "Here  I  am  back!  And  I'm 
thanking  the  good  saints  for  the  few  mouthfuls  of 
fresh  air  I  got  outside  and  the  news  I  got,  and  for 
this  here  I  found  and  fetched  along.  I  need  him. 
I  was  on  a  jury  once,  in  a  murder  case,  and  they  had 
the  tool  that  done  the  job  and  the  lawyers  tagged  it 
Exhibit  A.  This  is  it!  He's  got  a  name,  but  if  I 
tried  to  say  it,  it  would  cramp  my  jaws  and  hold  my 
mouth  open  so  long  that  I'd  get  assifixiated  with 

86 


The  Men  Who  Were  Waiting  to  Be  Shown 

this  smoke.  This  is  Bill  the  Bomber!  Demeter, 
hold  up  the  goods  we  found  on  him!" 

The  post-adjutant  obeyed  the  order.  ' 

"Now,  Bill  the  Bomber,"  demanded  Lanigan, 
"tell  me  and  the  bunch  what's  the  big  idea  of  the 
arsenal,  in  a  peaceful  American  city  ? " 

"Is  it  peaceful?"  screamed  the  captive,  at  bay. 
"There  are  soldiers  marching  with  guns.  There 
are  men  threatening  and  cursing!    There  are — " 

"Hold  right  on — right  where  you  are!  Are  you 
naturalized?" 

"No!" 

"Well,  let  me  tell  you,  you  red-gilled  Bullshevist, 
that  till  you're  a  voting  American  citizen,  our  private 
and  personal  and  strictly  family  rows  are  none  of 
your  damn'  business!  All  American  citizens  kindly 
applaud!" 

He  was  answered  by  cheers,  stamping  feet,  and 
clapping  hands 

"Contrary-minded?"  he  invited  in  the  silence 
that  followed. 

"Hiss  a  few  hisses,  you  snakes!'*  he  ui^ed.  "Or 
show  those  red  flags  you're  carrying  in  your  pockets!" 

There  was  no  demonstration,  either  by  act  or  by 
word. 

Lanigan  pushed  his  captive  to  the  rear  of  the 

platform  and  jolted  him  down  into  a  chair  behind 

which,  on  the  wall,  was  draped   a    large   United 

States  flag.    "Set  there  and  see  if  you  can't  absorb 

a  little  of  the  white  and  blue  into  your  system,  along 
7  87 


All-Wool  Morrison 

with  the  red  that's  already  there,"  counseled  the 
patriot.  "You're  going  to  hear  some  man-talk  in  a 
little  while,  and  I  hope  'twill  do  you  good!" 

A  man  in  the  audience  rose  to  his  feet  when 
Lanigan  marched  back  to  the  front  of  the  rostrum. 

"I  am  a  voter  here,  yet  I  was  born  in  another 
country.  Will  you  allow  me  to  ask  a  question, 
Commander  Lanigan?" 

"Sure!  But  let's  start  even  on  names.  What's 
yours  ? " 

"Otto  Weisner!" 

Lanigan  made  a  grimace.  "But  even  at  that  I'm 
going  to  keep  my  word  and  I  call  on  all  present  to 
back  me  up." 

"See  here!"  bawled  a  voice  from  a  far  comer. 
"Let  that  Hun  wait!  How  about  your  word  to  us 
in  another  matter?    Where's  the  mayor  of  Marion  ?" 

**The  mayor  of  Marion  is  on  his  way  to  this  hall!** 
The  soldier's  face  was  set  into  a  grim  expression  and 
deep  ridges  lined  his  jaws.  "I  gave  you  all  once  to- 
night his  word  to  me  that  he'd  stand  up  for  us  on 
Capitol  Hill,  whatever  it  is  they're  trying  to  put 
over.  I  got  the  hoot  from  you  when  I  said  it.  You 
wouldn't  take  my  word  and  I  just  told  him  so.  Now 
he's  coming  down  here  for  himself!  I  say  it.  If 
some  gent  would  like  to  hoot  another  hoot  on  that 
subject  will  he  kindly  step  up  here  and  hoot?*' 
He  doubled  his  fists. 

There  was  no  indication  that  anybody  wanted  to 

accept  the  invitation. 

88 


The  Men  Who  Were  Waiting  to  Be  Shown 

"Very  well,  then!"  proceeded  Lanigan.  "Tm  in 
a  soothing  frame  of  mind,  myself,  and  I  hope  you're 
all  soothed,  too.  And  so  that  we  won't  be  wasting 
any  time  on  a  busy  evening  I'll  state  that  the  meeting 
is  now  open  for  that  question,  Mister  Weisner. 
Shoot!" 


VI 

THl   man's   word   of  THE   MAYOR  OF  MARrOlf 

COMMANDER  LANIGAN  had  constituted  him- 
self the  presiding  officer  of  the  assemblage  that 
had  been  gathered  under  no  special  auspices  and  by 
no  formal  call.  It  was  a  flocking  together  of  those 
uneasy  persons  who  had  been  informing  one  another 
that  they  wanted  to  be  shown!  Mr.  Lanigan's 
unconventional  methods  in  the  chair  were  tolerated 
because  he  had  displayed  much  alacrity  in  putting 
the  mob  in  the  way  of  securing  information  from 
such  high  authority  as  the  mayor  of  Marion.  Chair- 
man Lanigan's  compelling  methods  in  pumping 
this  time-filler  kept  up  the  interest  of  the  auditors. 

"I  belong  to  der  Socialist  party,"  stated  Weisner. 

"We  don't  want  no  Boche  speeches!"  warned  a 
voice. 

In  his  absorption  in  affairs,  Lanigan  was  still 
hanging  on  to  the  captured  red  necktie.  He  noted 
that  fact  and  held  the  danger  signal  aloft.  "I  don't 
approve  of  this  color  at  this  time,"  he  remarked. 
"But  when  I  have  seen  it  waved  in  times  past  I 

have  known  that  it  meant  a  blast  going  off  or  a  train 

90 


The  Mans  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

coming  on,  and  I  have  never  taken  foolish  chances. 
Does  the  objecting  gent  down  there  in  the  corner 
need  any  further  instruction  from  here,  or  shall  I 
come  down  and  whisper  in  his  ear?" 

Silence  assured  him  and  again  he  ordered  Mr. 
Weisner  to  ask  his  question. 

The  querist  ceased  from  showing  deference  to  the 
volunteer  in  the  chair;  Weisner  turned  his  back  on 
Lanigan  and  addressed  all  in  hearing,  shaking  his 
fist  over  his  head:  "Who  tells  me  dis  vhat  I  don'd 
know?  Does  Karl  Trimbach  his  seat  haf  in  der 
State  House  vhere  der  Socialists  haf  elected  him?*' 

"If  he  has  been  elected,  sure  he'll  have  his  seat," 
declared  Lanigan,  loyally.  "That's  the  way  we  do 
things  in  this  country!  Why  shouldn't  he  have  his 
seat?" 

"Den  vhere — vhere  is  dot  zertificate  dot  should 
show  to  Karl  Trimbach  dot  he  shall  valk  into  der 
State  House  und  sit  on  his  seat?  He  don't  get  it. 
Why  don'd  dey  send  it?"  Weisner  bellowed  his 
questions.    He  threshed  his  arms  wildly  about  him. 

"This  is  no  time  to  be  starting  anything,  Weisner! 
Don't  stand  there  and  be  a  Dutch  windmill — be  an 
American  citizen!     Soothe  yourself!" 

Another  gentleman  arose.  He  was  distinctly 
Hibernian.  He  wore  an  obtrusive  ribbon-knot  of 
green,  white,  and  yellow,  the  colors  of  the  flag  of 
the  Irish  Republic.  "Lanigan,  ye  may  not  be  able 
to  reply  satisfact'rily  to  th*  questions  o'  the  sour- 
krauters,  but  when  I  ask  ye  whether  or  not  the 

91 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Hon'rable  Danyel  O'Donnell,  riprisent'thive-ilict, 
put  in  that  high  office  be  th'  votes  o'  th'  Marion 
pathrits  of  a  free  Ireland,  takes  his  sate,  what  does 
th*  blood  o'  yer  race  say  to  me?" 

Lanigan  blinked  and  hesitated.  He  felt  the 
sudden  Celtic  surging  of  a  natural  impulse  to  run 
with  his  kind,  to  swing  the  cudgel  valiantly  for  the 
cause,  and  to  ask  questions  after  the  shindy  was 
over. 

"You  know  th*  principles  o*  th'  Hon'rable  O'Don- 
nell," insisted  the  speaker  in  loud  tones.  "'Tis  his 
intint  to  raise  his  voice  in  th'  halls  o'  state  and  shout 
ear-rly  and  late,  *Whativer  it  is  ye're  about,  gents, 
it  all  may  be  very  well,  but  what  will  ye  be  doing 
for  the  cause  o'  free  Ireland?*  That's  th'  kind  of  a 
hero  we're  putting  in  th'  State  House  on  the  hill." 

"Putting  a  pest  there,  ye  mean!"  returned 
Lanigan. 

"Is  that  the  blood  o'  yer  race  speaking?** 

"No,  it's  the  common  sense  up  here,"  declared  the 
commander,  tapping  his  knuckles  against  the  side  of 
his  head.  "Look,  here,  Mulcahy,  my  man!  You're 
spouting  about  a  subject  that's  too  big  for  me  to 
understand  or  you  to  explain.  And  that's  why 
you're  muddling  yourself  and  mixing  up  the  minds  of 
others  with  your  questions.  I  ask  you  no  questions. 
I'm  going  to  tell  you  something — and  it's  so!  If 
the  kids  in  your  family  was  down  with  the  measles, 
and  the  missus  was  all  snarled  up  with  the  tick- 

doolooroo  and  you  wasn't  feeling  none  too  well  your- 

92 


The  Mans  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

self,  what  with  a  hold-over,  a  black  eye,  and  a  lot  o* 
bumps,  what  would  you —  Hold  on !  I  say,  I  ask  no 
questions!  I  know  the  answer.  If  Tommy  O'Rourke 
came  howling  and  whooping  into  your  back  door  and 
asked  you  to  go  out  and  shin  up  a  tree  and  fetch  down 
his  tomcat,  ye'd  tell  Tommy  to  bounce  along  and 
mind  his  own  matters  till  ye'd  settled  your  own — 
and  if  he  didn't  go  you'd  kick  him  out." 

"I'm  discussing  th*  rights  and  wrongs  of  a  suffer- 
ing people." 

"And  playing  safe  for  yourself  because  the  sub- 
ject is  so  big — and  putting  others  in  wrong  because 
they  can't  settle  all  the  troubles  of  the  universe  off- 
hand to  suit  ye!  My  family  is  America,  Mulcahy! 
It  ought  to  be  yours,  first,  last,  and  all  the  time. 
But  we've  got  our  own  aches  to  mind,  right  now! 
And  the  way  I'm  putting  it,  a  plain  man  can  under- 
stand. If  the  tomcat  don't  know  enough  to  come 
down  all  by  himself,  leave  him  be  up  there  till  the 
doctor  tells  us  we  can  be  out  and  about." 

Weisner  put  his  demand  again  and  Mulcahy 
made  the  affair  a  vociferous  duet;  other  men  were 
on  their  feet,  shouting.  But  a  top  sergeant  has  a 
voice  of  his  own  and  a  manner  to  go  with  the  voice : 
Lanigan  yelled  the  chorus  into  silence. 

While  he  was  engaged  in  this  undertaking  a  di- 
version at  the  door  assisted  him.  The  crowd  parted. 
Men  shouted,  pleading,  "Make  way  for  the  mayor!" 

Morrison  came  up  the  aisle  toward  the  platform, 
Blanchard  at  his  heels. 

93 


All-Wool  Morrison 

There  were  cheers — plenty  of  them! 

But  sibilantly,  steadily,  ominously  the  derogatory 
hisses  were  threaded  with  the  frank  clamor  of  wel- 
come;   hisses  whose  sources  were  concealed. 

The  mayor  ran  up  the  steps  of  the  platform  and 
marched  to  Lanigan,  doffing  the  silk  hat  and  extend- 
ing his  hand  cordially. 

With  his  forearm  the  commander  scrubbed  off  the 
sweat  that  was  streaming  down  into  his  eyes.  "  It's 
been  like  hauling  a  seventy-five  into  action  with 
mules,  Your  Honor!     For  the  love  o*  Mike,  shoot!" 

The  hisses  continued  along  with  the  applause  when 
Stewart  faced  the  throng. 

Lanigan  leaped  off  the  platform,  not  bothering 
with  the  stairs.  "Fm  going  to  wade  through  this 
grass,"  he  yelped.  "God  pity  the  rattlesnake  I 
locate!" 

A  shrill  voice  from  somewhere  dared  to  taunt, 
"Pipe  the  dude!" 

Morrison  smiled.  He  had  unbuttoned  his  top- 
coat, and  his  evening  garb,  in  that  congress  of  the 
rough  and  ready,  made  him  as  conspicuous  as  a 
bird  of  paradise  in  a  rookery.  "I  seem  to  be  double- 
crossed  by  my  scenic  effects,  Blanchard,"  he  stated 
in  an  aside  to  the  magnate,  who  had  stepped  upon 
the  platform  because  that  elevation  seemed  safer 
than  a  position  on  the  floor.  "We  must  fix  that! 
Furthermore,  it*s  hot  up  here!"  He  pulled  off  his 
top-coat.  He  realized  that  the  full  display  of  his 
formal  dress  only  aggravated  the  situation.     In  St. 

94 


The  Man  5  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

Ronan's  mill  he  mingled  with  men  in  nis  shirt- 
sleeves. He  turned  and  saw  Nicolai  Krylovensky 
in  the  chair  where  Lanigan  had  thrust  him.  There 
was  no  other  chair  on  the  platform.  Stewart  hastily 
laid  the  coat  across  the  aHen*s  knees.  "Keep  *em 
out  of  the  dirt  for  me,  will  you,  brother?  I'm 
notional  about  good  cloth!'*  He  pushed  his  silk 
hat  into  the  man's  hand  and  then  he  stripped  off  the 
claw-hammer  and  white  waistcoat,  piled  them  upon 
the  overcoat,  and  whirled  to  face  his  audience. 

All  eyes  were  engaged  with  the  mayor. 

Krylovensky,  unobserved,  let  the  garments  slip 
to  the  floor  and  dropped  the  hat. 

"Now,  boys,  we'll  get  down  to  business  together 
in  an  understanding  way!  What's  it  all  about?" 
Stewart  invited,  cheerily. 

"Just  a  minute!"  cried  Lanigan,  heading  off  all  the 
possibilities  that  were  threatening  by  a  general  pow- 
wow. "I've  just  been  up  against  the  bunch  here. 
Mister  Mayor,  and  they're  trying  to  turn  it  into  a 
congress-of-nations  debate,  and  it  ain't  nothing  of 
the  kind.  And  I  know  you're  in  a  hurry,  and  we 
don't  expect  a  speech!" 

"You  won't  get  one!"  retorted  the  mayor,  tartly. 
"I  have  dropped  down  here  merely  in  a  business 
way  to  find  out  what's  wanted  of  me  as  the  executive 
head  of  this  city." 

"Your  Honor,  I  have  been  preaching  the  notion 
of  telling  the  truth  to-night,  and  I'm  going  to  come 
across   with    something    about    myself,"    confessed 

95 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Lanigan,  manfully.  "I've  gone  off  half  cocked  twice 
to-day.  I've  been  thinking  it  over  and  I  realize  it. 
In  your  office  I  grabbed  in  on  a  word  or  two  you 
said  and  took  it  for  granted  that  you  were  going  to 
lift  the  whole  load  of  the  people's  case  up  at  the 
State  House  and  stop  anything  being  put  over  on 
the  people,  whatever  it  is  the  Big  Boys  are  planning. 
But  you  didn't  promise  me  to  do  it." 

"I  did  not,  Joe!" 

"And  I've  been  telling  this  gang  that  you  did 
promise  me  and  that  I'd  get  you  down  here  to  back 
up  my  word.  I  don't  ask  you  to  back  up  my  lie. 
You're  too  square  a  proposition,  Mayor  Morrison!" 

"After  that  man-talk,  Joe,  I've  just  naturally  got 
to  make  a  little  of  my  own.  And  the  boys  can't 
help  seeing  that  both  you  and  I  mean  all  right.  I 
did  give  you  good  reasons  for  jumping  at  conclu- 
sions as  you  say  you  did,  Joe!  Understand  that, 
boys !  But  my  head  isn't  swelled  to  the  extent  that 
I  believe  I  can  settle  everything. 

"Now  that  I'm  down  here  I'll  say  this.  I'll  do 
everything  I  can,  as  mayor  of  Marion,  to  straighten 
things  out  to-night  so  that  the  people  won't  be  left 
guessing.  Guessing  starts  gabble  and  gabble  starts 
trouble!  Don't  do  any  more  shouting  about  *  state 
steal,'  and  don't  allow  others  to  shout.  Most  of  us 
don't  know  what  it  means,  anyway,  and  others 
don't  care,  so  long  as  it  gives  'em  a  chance  to  stir 
up  riots  and  grab  off  something  for  themselves  under 

cover  of  the  trouble.     There  are  a  lot  of  outsiders 

96 


The  Mans  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

in  this  country,  standing  ready  to  make  just  such 
plays!  Don't  let  your  ears  be  scrufFed  by  mischief- 
makers,  boys.  Let's  have  our  city  come  through 
with  a  clean  name!  I'm  going  to  do  my  part  as 
best  I  can.  But  you've  all  got  to  do  yours — under- 
stand that!"  He  smacked  his  fist  down  into  his 
palm. 

"Do  you  bromise  me  dot  Karl  Trimbach  gets  dot 
seat?"  boomed  Mr.  Weisner. 

"The  same  question  goes  as  to  th'  Hon'rable 
Danyel  O'Donnell,"  said  Adherent  Mulcahy. 

"I  cannot  promise." 

Then  sounded  that  voice  of  the  unknown  trouble- 
maker, sneeringly  shrill,  the  senseless,  passion-pro- 
voking common,  human  fife  of  the  mob  spirit, 
persistently  present  and  consistently  cowardly  in 
concealment.  "Of  course  you  don't  promise  any- 
thing to  the  people!  Dudes  stand  together!  Go 
back  and  dance!" 

Lanigan  began  to  claw  a  passage  for  himself. 

"Stand  where  you  are,  Joe!"  commanded  Stewart. 
"Don't  flatter  a  fool  by  making  any  account  of  him!'* 

"Those  kinds  of  fools  are  going  to  make  trouble  in 
this  city  before  the  night  is  over.  Your  Honor!" 

"That's  the  trouble  with  politics,"  declared  Mul- 
cahy. "Ye  can't  get  a  square  promise  in  politics 
fr'm  th'  Big  Boys!" 

Morrison  put  up  a  monitory  forefinger. 

"But  you  can  get  a  square  promise  from  me  in 
business — and  I  can  see  that  it's  time  to  give  that 

97 


All-JVool  Morrison 

promise  and  make  it  specific.  That's  the  way  a  busi- 
ness contract  must  be  drawn.  Hear  me,  then!  It's 
the  business  of  this  city  to  see  that  no  man  abuses 
its  good  name  or  its  hospitaUty,  no  matter  whether 
he's  a  resident  or  comes  here  because  it's  the  capital 
of  the  state.  And  I'll  see  to  it  that  the  men  up  at 
the  State  House  end  understand  that  they  must  play 
fair  for  the  good  of  all  of  us.  You  must  understand 
the  same  at  this  end.  I'll  take  no  sides  in  politics. 
The  men  who  are  entitled  to  their  seats  in  this 
legislature  will  have  those  seats.  I'm  only  one 
man,  boys!  But  one  man  who  is  perfectly  honest 
and  is  depending  on  the  right  will  find  the  whole 
law  of  the  land  behind  him — and  wise  men  and  good 
men  have  attended  to  the  law.  Will  you  take  my 
word  and  let  it  stand  that  way  between  us?" 

A  chorused  yell  of  assent  greeted  him. 

"All  right!  It's  a  contract!  Mind  your  end  of 
it!" 

He  turned  sharply  from  them  and  faced  Kry- 
lovensky.  The  alien  leaped  up  and  kicked  the 
mayor's  garments  to  one  side. 

"Say!  See  here,  my  friend!"  expostulated  Stewart. 

"Down  with  rulers!"  screamed  the  man.  "I'll  be 
a  martyr,  but  not  a  hat-rack!" 

The  mayor  walked  toward  the  frantic  person. 
"I'm  sorry!     I  was  thoughtless!" 

"You  and  your  kind  think  of  nothing  but  your- 
selves. You  try  to  make  slaves  of  free  citizens  of 
the  world!"     Krylovensky  had  been  buffeted  and 

98 


The  Mans  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

had  controlled  himself.  But  the  fires  of  his  narrow 
fanaticism  were  now  whirling  in  his  brain;  sitting 
there  on  high  before  the  eyes  of  his  fellows,  the  men 
to  whom  he  had  been  preaching  the  doctrines  of 
soviet  sovereignty — the  supremacy  of  the  people — 
he  had  just  suffered  what  his  distorted  views  held  as 
the  enormity  of  ignominy;  he  had  been  used  as  a 
clothes-tree  for  discarded  garments.  Used  by  a 
ruler! 

When  Morrison,  not  realizing  that  the  man  had 
become  little  short  of  a  maniac,  stooped  to  pick  up 
the  garments  Krylovensky  dove  forward  and  struck 
the  mayor's  face  with  open  hand.  "Now  throw  me 
to  your  dogs!  I'll  die  a  martyr  to  my  cause!"  he 
squalled. 

The  mayor  snapped  upright  and  laid  restraining 
hands  on  the  man  who  was  threatening  him  with 
doubled  fists. 

A  roaring  mob  came  milling  toward  the  platform. 

"I'll  be  a  martyr!"  insisted  the  alien. 

"I  can't  humor  you  to  that  extent,"  replied  Mor- 
rison, in  the  tone  of  a  father  denying  indulgence  in 
the  case  of  a  wilful  child. 

He  got  between  the  man  and  the  mob.  He  held 
Krylovensky  from  him  with  one  hand  and  put  up 
the  other  protestingly,  authoritatively. 

"No  man  that's  a  real  man  lets  another  man  bang 
him  in  the  face,"  declared  Lanigan  with  fury. 

"That's  a  nice  point,  to  be  argued  later  by  us 
when  things  are  quieter,  Joe.     Stand  back!" 

99 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"I'm  going  to  kill  him  even  if  you  haven't  got  the 
grit  to  do  it."  Lanigan  was  showing  the  bitter 
disappointment  of  a  worshiper  kicking  among  the 
fragments  of  a  shattered  idol. 

"I  won't  allow  you  to  do  that,  Joe!  A  dead  man 
can't  answer  questions.  Stand  back,  all  of  you,  I 
say!'*  He  twisted  the  grip  of  his  hand  in  the  man's 
collar  until  Krylovensky  ceased  his  struggles. 

"Do  you  work  in  this  city?"  asked  the  mayor. 

"He  works  in  the  Conawin,"  shouted  Lanigan. 
"And  I  shook  him  down  this  evening  for  a  gun,  a 
knob-knocker,  and  a  lot  of  red  flags." 

Blanchard  was  backed  against  the  big  Stars  and 
Stripes,  apprehensively  seeking  refuge  from  the 
crowd  massing  on  the  platform.  Morrison  caught 
his  eye.  "  Seems  to  be  one  of  your  patriots,  Blanch- 
ard!    Shall  I  hand  him  over  to  you.''" 

"I  never  saw  the  renegade  before." 

"I'm  sorry  you  don't  get  into  your  mill  the  way  I 
do  into  mine.  I'd  like  to  know  something  about 
this  gentleman  who  doesn't  show  any  inclination  to 
speak  for  himself.'* 

"I'm  not  afraid  to  speak,"  declared  the  captive, 
all  cautiousness  burned  out  of  him  by  the  fires  of  his 
martyr  zeal.  "I'm  an  ambassador  of  the  grand  and 
good  Soviet  Government  of  Russia.'* 

The  mayor  preserved  his  serenity. 

"Ah,  I  think  I  understand!  One  of  the  estimable 
gentlemen  who  have  been  coming  to  us  by  the  way 
of  the  Mexican  border  of  late!    When  you  picked 


The  Mans  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

up  such  a  good  command  of  our  language,  my 
friend,  it's  too  bad  you  didn't  pick  up  a  better 
understanding  of  our  country.  I  haven't  any  time 
just  now  to  give  you  an  idea  of  it,  sir.  I'll  have  a 
talk  with  you  to-morrow." 

The  mayor  had  seen  Officer  Rellihan  at  the  door  of 
the  hall.  As  a  satellite,  Rellihan  was  constant  in  his 
attendance  on  his  controlling  luminary  in  public 
places,  even  though  the  luminary  issued  no  special 
orders  to  that  effect;  Morrison's  intended  visit  to  the 
hall  had  been  quickly  advertised  down-town. 

Stewart  glanced  about  him  and  found  Rellihan  at 
his  elbow. 

"Here's  the  honorable  ambassador  of  Soviet 
Russia,  Rellihan,"  said  his  chief.  "Take  him  along 
with  you,  keep  harm  from  him  on  the  way,  and  see 
that  he  is  well  lodged  for  the  night  in  a  place  where 
enemies  can't  get  at  him." 

"I  know  just  the  right  place,  Your  Honor,"  stated 
the  policeman,  pulling  his  club  from  his  belt  and 
waving  it  to  part  the  throng. 

Morrison  broke  in  upon  Lanigan's  mumbled 
threats.     "Mind  your  manners,  Joe!" 

"But  he  hit  you!" 

The  mayor  picked  up  his  garments,  one  by  one, 
inspected  them,  and  dusted  them  with  his  palm; 
then  he  pulled  them  on.     The  crowd  gazed  at  him. 

"He  hit  you!"  Lanigan  insisted,  bellicosely. 
"When  a  man  hits  me,  I  lick  him!" 

"You're  a  good  fighter,  Joe,"  agreed  His  Honor, 


All-Wool  Morrison 

running  his  forearm  about  his  silk  hat  to  smooth  the 
nap.  "But  let  me  tell  you  something!  Unless  you 
put  yourself  in  better  shape  there'll  be  a  fellow  some 
day  that  you'll  want  to  lick,  and  you  won't  be  able 
to  lick  him,  and  you'll  be  almighty  sorry  because  you 
can't  turn  the  trick.'* 

"Show  me  the  feller.  Mister  Mayor!'* 

"Go  look  in  the  glass,  Joe.'* 

"Lick  myself — is  that  what  you  mean,  sir?** 

"Sure!  If  you  can  do  it  when  it  ought  to  be  done, 
you'll  have  the  right  to  feel  rather  proud  of  yourself." 

He  invited  Blanchard  with  a  side  wag  of  his  head 
and  led  the  way  from  the  hall. 

"Morrison,  let  me  say  this,**  blurted  the  mill 
magnate,  when  they  were  on  their  way  in  the  limou- 
sine. "  By  reason  of  this  people-side-partner  notion 
of  yours,  you  have  gone  to  work  and  got  yourself 
into  an  infernal  fix.  How  do  you  expect  to  make 
good  that  promise?'* 

"I  suppose  I  did  sound  rather  boastful,  but  I 
had  to  put  it  strong.  A  mealy-mouthed  promise 
wouldn't  hold  them  in  line!" 

"But  that  promise  only  encourages  such  muckers 
in  the  belief  that  they  have  a  right  to  demand,  to 
boss  their  betters,  to  call  for  accountings  and  con- 
cessions.    You  have  put  the  devil  into  'em!" 

"I  hope  not!  Faith  in  a  contract — that's  what  I 
tried  to  put  into  *em.  They'll  wait  and  let  me 
operate!" 

"Operate!    You're  one  man   against  the  whole 


The  Mans  Word  of  the  Mayor  of  Marion 

state  government  and  you're  defying  single-handed 
the  political  powers!  You  can't  deliver  the  goods! 
That  gang  down-town  will  wait  about  so  long  and 
then  'twill  be  hell  to  pay  to-night!" 

Morrison  had  found  his  pipe  in  his  overcoat 
pocket.  He  was  soothing  himself  with  a  smoke  on 
the  way  toward  the  Corson  mansion. 

"But  why  worry  so  much  when  the  night  is  still 
young  .f"'  he  queried,  placidly. 


VII 

THE    THIN    CRUST   OVER    BOILING    LAVA  ) 

C  ENATOR  CORSON,  at  the  head  of  the  receiving- 
^  line,  attended  strictly  to  the  task  in  hand  as  an 
urbane  and  assiduous  host. 

Wonted  by  long  political  usage  to  estimate  every- 
thing on  the  basis  of  votes  for  and  against,  he  was 
entirely  convinced,  by  the  face  of  the  returns  that 
evening,  that  the  reception  he  was  tendering  was  a 
grand  success,  unanimously  indorsed;  he  would 
have  been  immensely  surprised  to  learn  that  under 
his  roof  there  was  a  bitterly  incensed,  furiously 
resentful  minority  that  was  voting  "No!'* 

The  "Yes!"  was  by  the  applausive,  open,  viva  voce 
vote  of  all  those  who  filed  past  him  and  shook  his 
hand  and  thronged  along  toward  the  buffet  that 
was  operated  in  de  luxe  style  by  a  metropolitan 
caterer's  corps  of  servants. 

The  Senator's  mansion  was  spacious  and  luxuri- 
ously appointed,  and  the  millions  from  the  products 
of  his  timber-land  barony  were  lavishly  behind  his 
hospitality.     Consoled  by  the  knowledge  that  Corson 

could  well  afford  the  treat,  his  guests,   after  that 

104 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

well-understood  quality  in  human  nature,  relished 
the  hospitality  more  keenly.  At  the  buffet  all  the 
plates  were  piled  high.  In  the  smoking-room  men 
took  handfuls  of  the  Senator's  cigars  from  the 
boxes.  And  the  pleasantry  connected  with  Governor 
Lawrence  North's  custom  in  campaigning  was  fre- 
quently heard.  It  was  related  of  North  that  he 
always  thriftily  passed  his  cigars  by  his  own  hand 
and  counseled  the  recipient:  "Help  yourself!  Take 
all  you  want!    Take  two!" 

The  guests  adopted  the  comfortable  attitude  that 
Corson  had  dropped  down  home  to  Marion  to  pay 
a  debt  which  he  owed  to  his  constituents,  and  they 
all  jumped  in  with  alacrity  to  help  him  pay  it. 

While  the  orchestra  played  and  the  ware  of  the 
buffet  clattered,  the  joyous  voices  of  the  overwhelm- 
ing majority  gave  Senator  Corson  to  understand 
that  he  was  the  idol  of  his  people  and  the  prop  of 
the  state. 

The  minority  kept  her  mouth  closed  and  her  teeth 
were  set  hard. 

The  minority  was  racked  by  agony  that  extended 
from  finger-tips  to  shoulder. 

The  minority  was  distinctly  groggy. 

This  minority  was  compassed  in  the  person  of  a 
single  young  and  handsome  matron  who  was  Mrs. 
J.  Warren  Stanton  in  her  home  city  Blue  Book,  and 
Doris  in  the  family  register  of  Father  Silas  Daunt, 
and  "Dorrie"  in  the  good  graces  of  Brother  Coventry 
Daunt. 

K)S 


All-Wool  Morrison 

In  addition  she  was  the  close  friend,  the  social 
mentor,  the  volunteer  chaperon  for  Lana  Corson, 
whose  mother  had  become  voicelessly  and  meekly 
the  mistress  of  the  Corson  mausoleum,  as  she  had 
been  meekly  and  unobtrusively  the  mistress  of  the 
Corson  mansion. 

Miss  Lana  had  suddenly  observed  warning  symp- 
toms in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Stanton. 

Mrs.  Stanton,  according  to  a  solicitous  friend's 
best  judgment,  was  no  longer  assisting  in  the  receiv- 
ing-line;  Mrs.  Stanton  needed  assistance! 

Therefore,  sooner  than  the  social  code  might  have 
permitted  in  an  affair  of  more  rigorously  formal 
character,  Lana  left  the  receiving  job  to  her  father 
and  the  Governor  and  the  aides,  and  rescued  Mrs. 
Stanton  and  accompanied  the  young  matron  to  the 
sanctuary  of  a  boudoir  above-stairs. 

Mrs.  Stanton  extended  to  the  tender  touch  of  her 
maid  a  wilted  hand,  lifted  by  a  stiffened  arm,  the 
raising  of  which  pumped  a  groan  from  the  lady. 
The  white  glove  which  incased  the  hand  and  arm 
was  smutched  liberally  in  telltale  fashion. 

"Pull  it  off,  Hibbert!  But  careful!  Don't  pull 
off  my  fingers  unless  they  are  very  loose  and  beyond 
hope.  But  hurry!  Let  me  know  the  worst  as  soon 
as  possible." 

"I  realize  that  the  reception — "  began  Lana. 

"Reception!"  Mrs.  Stanton  snapped  her  head 
around  to  survey  her  youthful  hostess.     The  flame 

on  the  matron's  cheeks  matched  the  fire  in  her  tones. 

1 06 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

"Reception,  say  you?  Lana  Corson,  don*t  you 
know  the  difference  between  a  reception  and  a 
political  rally?" 

"I'm  sorry,  Doris!  But  father  simply  must  do 
this  duty  thing  when  the  legislature  meets.  The 
members  expect  it.  It  keeps  up  his  fences,  he  says. 
It's  politics!" 

"I'm  glad  my  father  is  a  banker  instead  of  a 
United  States  Senator.  If  this  is  what  a  Senator 
has  to  do  when  he  comes  back  to  his  home,  I  think 
he'd  better  stay  in  Washington  and  send  down  a  car- 
load of  food  and  stick  a  glove  on  the  handle  of  the 
town  pump  and  let  his  constituents  operate  that! 
At  any  rate,  the  power  wouldn't  be  wasted  in  a  dry 
time!" 

Lana  surveyed  her  own  hand.  The  glove  was 
not  immaculate  any  more,  but  it  covered  a  firm 
hand  that  was  unweary.  "Father  has  given  me 
good  advice.  It's  to  shake  the  hand  of  the  other 
chap,  not  let  yours  be  shaken." 

"Those  brutes  gave  me  no  chance!" 

"I  noticed  that  they  were  very  enthusiastic,  Doris. 
I'm  afraid  you're  too  handsome!" 

But  that  flattery  did  not  placate  Mrs.  Stanton. 
"It's  only  a  rout  and  a  rabble,  Lana!  The  feminine 
element  does  not  belong  in  it.  My  father  dines  his 
gentlemen  and  accomplishes  his  objects.  And  I 
think  you  have  become  one  of  these  political  hypo- 
crites!   You  actually  looked  as  if  you  were  enjoying 

that  performance  down-stairs." 

107 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"I  was  enjoying  it,  Doris!  I  was  helping  my 
father  as  best  I  could,  and  at  the  same  time  I  was 
meeting  many  of  my  old,  true  friends.  Fm  glad  to 
be  home  again."  The  girl  was  unaffectedly  sincere 
in  her  statement. 

The  glove  was  off  and  Mrs.  Stanton  was  surveying 
her  hand,  wriggling  the  fingers  tentatively. 

"And  they  all  seemed  so  glad  to  see  me  that  I'm  a 
bit  penitent,"  Lana  went  on.  "I'm  ashamed  to 
own  up  to  myself  that  I  have  allowed  California  and 
Palm  Beach  to  coax  me  away  from  Marion  these 
last  two  winters.  I  ought  to  have  come  down  here 
with  father.  I'm  not  talking  like  a  politician  now, 
Doris.     Honestly,  I'm  stanch  for  old  friends!" 

"I  trust  you  don't  think  I'm  an  ingrate  in  the 
case  of  my  own  old  friends,  Lana!"  Mrs.  Stanton, 
unappeased,  was  willing  to  take  issue  right  then  with 
anybody,  on  that  topic.  "But  the  main  trouble 
with  old  friends  is,  they  take  too  many  liberties. 
Your  old  friends  certainly  did  take  liberties  with  my 
poor  hand,  and  they  took  liberties  with  your  own 
private  business  in  my  hearing." 

"How — in  what  way?" 

"I  overheard  persons  say  distinctly,  over  and 
over  again,  that  one  feature  of  this — no,  I'll  not 
muddle  my  own  ideas  of  society  functions  by  calling 
it  a  reception — they  declared  that  your  father  pro- 
poses to  announce  to-night  in  his  home  town  your 
engagement  to  Coventry." 

The  question  that  she  did  not  put  into  words  she 

io8 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boilihg  Lava 

put  into  the   searching,   quizzical   stare   she   gave 
Lana. 

"Ah!"  remarked  Miss  Corson,  revealing  nothing 
either  by  tone  or  countenance. 

"  It  looks  to  me  as  if  you've  been  receiving  other 
lessons  from  your  father,  outside  of  the  hand-shaking 
art.  You  are  about  as  non-committal  as  the  best  of 
our  politicians,  Lana  dear!'* 

For  reply  the  Senator's  daughter  smiled.  The 
smile  was  so  ingenuous  that  it  ought  to  have  dis- 
armed the  young  matron  of  her  petulance. 

But  Mrs.  Stanton  went  on  with  the  sharp  insist- 
ence of  one  who  had  discovered  an  opportunity  and 
proposed  to  make  the  most  of  it.  "Seeing  that  the 
matter  has  come  up  in  this  way — quite  by  chance — " 
Mrs.  Stanton  did  not  even  blink  when  she  said  it — 
"though  I  never  would  have  presumed  to  speak  of  it 
to  you,  Lana,  without  good  and  sufficient  provoca- 
tion— I  think  that  you  and  Coventry  should  have 
confided  in  me,  first  of  all.  Of  course,  I  know  well 
enough  how  matters  stand!  I  really  believe  I  do! 
But  I  think  I'm  entitled  to  know,  officially,  to  put 
it  that  way,  as  much  as  your  highly  esteemed  old 
friends  here  in  Marion  know." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Miss  Corson. 

"But  first,  Lana  dear!    To  know  it  first — as   a 

sister    should!     I'm    not    blaming    you!     I    realize 

that  you   met   some  of  those   aforesaid   old,  true 

friends  while  you  were  out  around  the  city  to-day. 

One  does  drop  confidences  almost  without  realizing 

109 


All-Wool  Morrison 

how  far  one  goes,  when  old  friends  are  met.  I'm 
sure  such  reports  as  I  overheard  couldn't  be  made  up 
out  of  whole  cloth." 

Mrs.  Stanton's  air  and  tone  were  certainly  pro- 
voking, but  Miss  Corson's  composure  was  not  ruffled. 
"Out  of  the  knowledge  that  you  profess  in  regard  to 
old  friends,  Doris,  you  must  realize  that  they  are 
energetic  and  liberal  guessers."  She  turned  toward 
the  door. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  my  room  for  a  fresh  pair  of  gloves,  dear." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you're  going  back 
for  another  turn  among  those  jiu-jitsu  experts?'* 

"We're  to  have  dancing  later." 

"For  myself,  I'd  as  soon  dance  with  performing 
bears.  I  must  be  excused.  I'll  do  anything  in 
reason,  but  I  have  reached  my  limit!" 

Lana  walked  back  to  her,  both  hands  extended. 
"You  have  been  a  dear  martyr  to  the  cause  of 
politics.  But  now  you  are  going  to  be  the  queen  of 
our  little  festival.  Listen,  Doris!  All  the  political 
buzzing  bees  will  be  thinning  out,  right  soon.  Those 
elderly  gentlemen  from  the  country  who  shook  hands 
with  a  good  Grange  grip — they'll  be  wanting  to  get 
plenty  of  sleep  so  as  to  be  wide  awake  to-morrow  to 
hear  the  Governor's  inaugural  address.  The  other 
vigorous  gentlemen  who  are  so  deeply  in  politics 
will  be  hurrying  back  to  their  hotels  for  their  cau- 
cuses, or  whatever  it  is  they  have  to  attend  to  in 
times  like  these.     And  the  younger  folks,  who  have 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

no  politics  on  their  mmds,  will  stay  and  enjoy 
themselves.  There  are  some  really  dear  folks  in 
Marion!" 

"I  thank  you  for  the  information,"  returned  Mrs. 
Stanton,  dryly.  "It's  important  if  true.  But  there's 
other  information  that's  more  important  in  my 
estimation  just  now  and  you  don't  allow  me  the 
opportunity  to  thank  you  for  it." 

"I  have  been  thinking,  Doris!  I  really  don't 
feel  in  the  mood,  when  all  those  friends  are  under 
my  roof,  to  stand  here  and  brand  them  as  prevari- 
cators.    Mayn't  we  let  the  matter  stand  till  later?" 

"Until  after  it  has  been  officially  announced?" 
queried  Mrs.  Stanton,  sarcastically. 

"I'm  afraid  that  father's  lessons  have  trained  me 
better  in  political  methods  than  I  have  realized," 
said  Lana,  meekly  apologetic.  "Because,  right 
now,  I'm  obliged  to  run  the  risk  of  offending  you, 
Doris,  by  quoting  him  and  making  his  usual  state- 
ment my  rule  of  conduct." 

"Well?" 

"'Nothing  can  be  officially  declared  until  all  the 
returns  are  in.'" 

"What  am  I  to  understand  from  that?'* 

"It  isn't  so  awfully  clear,  I  know!  But  let's  not 
talk  any  more  about  it." 

Lana  had  dropped  her  friend's  hands.  She  took 
them  again  in  her  grasp  and  swung  Mrs.  Stanton's 
arms  to  and  fro  in  girlish  and  frolicsome  fashion. 
**Now  go  ahead  and  be  your  own  jolly  Doris  Stanton! 


All-Wool  Morrison 

You're  going  to  meet  folks  who'll  understand  you 
and  appreciate  all  your  wit.  One  especially  I'll 
name.  I  don't  know  why  he's  so  late  in  coming,  for 
he  had  a  special  invitation  from  my  own  mouth. 
He's  the  mayor  of  Marion!" 

"What.f"'  demanded  Mrs.  Stanton,  irefully,  pulling 
away  from  the  girl  who  was  trying  to  coax  back 
good  nature.  "Picking  out  another  politician  for 
my  special  consideration,  after  what  I  have  been 
through?" 

"Oh,  he's  not  a  politician,  Doris  dear!  Father 
says  he  isn't  one;  he  says  so  himself  and  his  party 
newspaper  here  in  the  city  says  regularly  that  he 
isn't,  in  a  complimentary  way,  and  the  opposition 
paper  says  so  in  a  sneering  way — and  I  suppose  that 
makes  the  thing  unanimous.  He  is  one  of  my  oldest 
friends;  he  was  my  hero  when  I  was  a  little  girl  in 
school;  he  is  tall  and  big  and  handsome  and — " 

Mrs.  Stanton  narrowed  her  eyes. 

She  broke  in  impatiently  on  the  panegyric.  "I'm 
so  thoroughly  disgusted  with  the  ways  of  politics, 
Lana,  that  I  draw  the  line  at  a  speech  of  nomina- 
tion.    You  said  you'd  name  him!    Who  is  he?" 

"Stewart  Morrison." 

"I  thought  so!"  Mrs.  Stanton's  tone  was  vastly 
fflgnificant. 

Lana  flushed.  The  composure  that  she  had  been 
maintaining  was  losing  its  serenity  and  her  friend 
noted  that  fact  and  became  more  irritable. 

"My  dear  Lana,  I  gathered  so  much  enlighten- 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

ment  from  the  twittering  of  those  old  friends  of 
yours  down-stairs  that  you'll  not  be  obliged,  I  think, 
to  break  your  most  excellent  rule  of  reticence  in  order 
to  humor  my  impertinent  curiosity  in  this  instance ! " 

"Don't  be  sarcastic  with  me,  Doris!  I  don't  find 
it  as  funny  as  when  you're  caustic  with  other  folks.** 

"There  does  seem  to  be  a  prevailing  lack  of  humor 
in  the  affairs  of  this  evening,'*  acknowledged  Mrs. 
Stanton.     "We'll  drop  the  subject,  dear!" 

"I  don't  like  you  to  feel  that  I'm  putting  you  to 
one  side  as  my  dearest  friend — not  in  anything." 

"If  you  haven't  felt  like  being  candid  with  me  in 
a  matter  where  I'd  naturally  be  vitally  interested,  I 
can  hardly  expect  you  to  pour  out  your  heart  about 
a  dead-and-gone  love-affair  with  a  rustic  up  in  these 
parts.  I  understood  from  the  chatter  of  your  old 
friends  that  it  is  dead  and  gone.  I  can  congratulate 
you  on  that  proof  of  your  newer  wisdom,  Lana.  It 
shows  that  my  counsels  haven't  been  entirely  wasted 
on  you.'* 

"It  was  dead  and  gone  before  you  began  to 
counsel  me,  Doris.  It's  not  a  matter  of  withholding 
confidence  from  you.  Why  should  I  talk  about 
such  things  to  anybody?** 

"Oh,  a  discreet  display  of  scalp-locks  decorates  a 
boudoir  and  interests  one's  friends,"  vouchsafed  the 
worldly  matron. 

"Such  confidences  are  atrocious!"  Miss  Corson 
displayed  spirit. 

"Now  both  of  us  are  getting  peppery,  dear  Lana, 

113 


All-Wool  Morrison 

and  I  always  reserve  that  privilege  exclusively  for 
myself  in  all  my  friendly  relations.  I  have  to  keep 
a  sharp  edge  on  my  tongue  because  folks  expect  me 
to  perform  the  social  taxidermy  in  my  set,  and  it's 
only  brutal  and  messy  if  done  with  a  dull  tool. 
Run  and  get  your  gloves!  But  take  your  own  time 
in  returning  to  me.  There  are  still  two  of  my 
fingers  that  need  a  further  period  of  convalescence." 

Mrs.  Stanton  promptly  neglected  her  duties  as  a 
finger  nurse  the  moment  Miss  Corson  was  out  of 
the  room.  "Hibbert,  ask  one  of  the  servants  to 
find  my  brother  and  tell  him  I  want  to  see  him  here. 
He  will  undoubtedly  be  located  in  some  group 
where  there  is  a  rural  gentleman  displaying  the 
largest  banner  of  beard.  My  brother  has  an  insa- 
tiable mania  for  laying  bets  with  sporting  young  men 
that  he  can  fondle  any  set  of  luxuriant  whiskers 
without  giving  the  wearer  cause  for  offense." 

Coventry  answered  his  sister's  call  with  prompti- 
tude. 

"I'll  keep  you  only  a  moment  from  your  whisker- 
parterres,  Cov!  When  you  go  back  into  that  down- 
stairs garden  please  give  some  of  those  beards  a 
good  hard  yank  for  my  sake." 

But  young  Mr.  Daunt  was  ^erious  and  rebuked 

her.     "This  isn't  any  lark  we're  on  up  here,  Dorrie! 

Dad  needs  to  have  everybody's  good  will  and  I'm 

doing  my  little  best  on  the  side-lines  for  him.     And 

he  isn't  tickled  to  pieces  by  your  quitting.     It's  a 

big  project  we're  gunning  through  this  legislature!'* 

114 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

"It  may  be  so!    It  probably  is!     But  Fm  not 

sacrificing  four  fingers,  a  thumb,  and  a  perfectly 
good  arm  for  the  cause  and  I'm  not  allowing  public 
affairs  to  take  my  mind  wholly  off  private  matters. 
So  here's  at  it !  Are  you  and  Lana  formally  engaged  V* 

"Well,  I  must  say  you're  not  abrupt  or  anything  of 
the  sort!" 

"Certain  semi-coaxing  methods  haven't  seemed  to 
succeed,  and  therefore  I'm  shooting  the  well,  as  our 
oil  friend  Whitaker  puts  it!" 

"Simply  for  the  sake  of  keeping  our  aflPectionate 
brother-and-sister  relations  on  the  safe  and  approved 
plane,  I'll  say  it's  none  of  your  blamed  business," 
declared  Coventry.  "On  the  other  hand,  in  a  purely 
tolerant  and  friendly  way,  I'll  say  that  Lana  and  I 
are  proceeding  agreeably,  I  think,  and  dad  told  me 
the  other  day  that  the  Senator  talked  as  if  the  matri- 
monial bill  might  receive  favorable  consideration 
when  duly  reported  from  committee — meaning  Lana 
and  myself  and — " 

"Gas!"  broke  in  Mrs.  Stanton.  "I  shot  and  I  get 
only  gas!  I'm  looking  for  oil!  Is  there  an  actual 
and  formal  engagement,  I  ask?" 

"Oh,  say!"  expostulated  her  brother,  registering 
disgust.  "The  motion  pictures  have  spoiled  that 
sort  of  thing.  They  have  to  propose  bang  outright 
in  the  films  because  the  fans  can't  be  bothered  by 
the  nuances  of  courtship.  But  for  a  chap  to  get 
down  on  his  knees  these  days  in  real  life  would  make 
the  girl  laugh  as  loud  as  the  fans  would  whoop  if 

IIS 


All-Wool  Morrison 

the  hero  in  reel  life  stcx)d  on  his  head  and  popped 
the  question.  Nothing  of  that  kind  of  formal  stuff 
m  my  case,  sis!    Of  course  not!'* 

"There  better  be!  You  go  ahead  this  very  night 
and  attend  to  it!" 

"Where  do  you  get  your  appointment  as  general 
manager  of  the  matter,  Dorrie?  You  certainly 
don't  get  it  from  me!" 

"Leaving  it  to  be  inferred — " 

"I  leave  nothing  to  be  inferred,"  declared  her 
brother,  righteously  indignant.  "Dorrie,  you  abso- 
lutely must  get  off  that  habit  of  carving  your  own 
kin  in  order  to  keep  up  the  edge  of  your  tongue.  I 
wouldn't  as  much  as  intimate  it,  by  denying  it,  that 
you  get  your  meddling  commission  from  Lana.  If 
this  is  all  you  wanted  to  talk  about,  I'll  have  to  be 
going.     This  is  my  busy  evening!" 

"Just  one  moment!  It's  always  the  busiest  man 
who  has  time  to  attend  to  one  thing  more!  I'm 
assuming  that  you  love  Lana." 

"Conceded!  You  always  did  have  a  good  eye  in 
that  line,  Dorrie!" 

"Then  my  advice,  as  an  exj)ert,  ought  to  be  re- 
spected. You  go  ahead  and  get  a  promise  from 
Lana  Corson.  Then  you'll  have  somebody  working 
for  your  interests  day  and  night." 

"Who?" 

"Her  New  England  conscience!" 

Young  Mr.  Daunt  gave  his  sister  a  long,  searching, 

and  sophisticated  stare.     "I  think  I  have  a  little 

116 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

the  advantage  of  you,  Dorrie.     I  met  to-day  this 
Mr.  Stewart  Morrison  you're  speaking  of!" 

"I  haven't  spoken  of  him!  I  haven't  mentioned 
his  name!'* 

"Oh,  didn't  you?"  purred  the  brother.  "Then  I 
must  have  anticipated  what  you  were  going  to  say,  or 
else  I  read  your  mind  for  the  name — and  that  only 
shows  that  the  Daunt  family's  members  are  thor- 
oughly en  rapporty  to  use  dad's  favorite  phrase  when 
he's  showing  the  strawberry  mark  on  ideas  and 
making  the  other  fellow  adopt  'em  as  his  own  chil- 
dren. And  I  have  heard  how  Lana  and  Morrison 
have  been  twice  engaged  and  twice  estranged.  So, 
how  about  her  New  England  conscience  in  the  mat- 
ter of  a  promise  in  love?" 

"As  I  understand  it,  the  New  England  conscience 
grows  up  with  the  possessor  and  comes  of  age  and 
asserts  itself.  You  can't  expect  an  infant  or  juvenile 
conscience  to  boss  and  control  like  a  grown-up 
conscience.  Coventry,  what  kind  of  a  man  is 
Morrison  ? " 

"A  big,  opinionated  ramrod  of  a  Scotchman 
who'd  drive  any  girl  to  break  her  engagement  a 
dozen  times  if  she  had  promised  as  often  as  that." 

Mrs.  Stanton  relaxed  in  her  chair  and  sighed  with 

relief.     "Oh,  from  what  she  said  about  him —     But 

no  matter!  I  think  you  do  know  men  very  well.  Gov! 

I'll   do   no   more   worrying   where   he's   concerned. 

Forgive  me  for  advising  you  so  emphatically." 

"He'd  boss  any  girl  into  breaking  her  engage- 

117 


All-Wool  Morrison 

ment,"  continued  Coventry,  with  conviction.  "Any 
dreaming,  wondering,  restless  girl,  curious  to  find 
out  for  herself  and  afraid  of  restraint." 

"I  know  the  type.  Impossible  as  husbands," 
averred  Mrs.  Stanton,  a  caustic  and  unwearying 
counselor  of  sex  independence. 

"But  there  are  some  girls  who  grow  up  into  real 
women,  though  you  probably  have  hard  work  to 
believe  that,"  said  her  brother,  equally  caustic  in 
stating  his  opinions,  "and  they  are  waiting  for  the 
right  man  to  come  along  and  take  sole  possession  of 
them,  body  and  soul  and  affairs — ^when  they  are 
women!  Then  it  isn't  bossing  any  more!  It's  love, 
glorified!  Letting  'em  have  their  own  way  would 
seem  like  neglect  and  indifference,  and  their  hearts 
would  be  broken.  They  eat  it  up,  sis,  eat  it  up, 
that  kind  of  love!" 

His  sister  leaped  from  her  chair.  "How  anybody 
with  an  ounce  of  brains  can  take  stock  in  this  cave- 
man nonsense  is  more  than  I  can  understand!" 

"It  has  nothing  to  do  with  brains,  sis!  It's  in 
here!"  He  tapped  his  finger  on  his  breast.  "It 
was  put  in  when  the  first  heart  started  beating." 

"  But  you  listen  to  reason !    No  woman  wants  a — " 

He  put  his  hand  up  and  broke  in  on  her  furious 
remonstrance.  "If  I  listen  to  reason,  sis,  you'll 
have  me  against  the  ropes  in  thirty  seconds.  I  admit 
that  there's  no  reason  why  a  woman  should  want  it 
that  way!  Brains  can  argue  us  right  out  of  the  no- 
tion.    I  won't   argue.     But  I  don't  want  you  to 

ii8 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

think  I'm  keeping  anything  away  from  you  that  a 
sister  ought  to  know.  As  my  sister  and  as  Lana's 
good  friend,  I'm  sure  you'll  be  glad  to  know  that  I 
love  her  with  all  my  heart  and  I  hope  I  haven't 
misunderstood  her  feelings  in  regard  to  me.  I  don't 
want  to  be  too  complacent,  but  I  think  she's  still 
girl  enough  to  welcome  my  kind  of  love  and  to  take 
me  for  what  I  am." 

He  and  his  sister  were  thoroughly  absorbed  in 
their  dialogue.  Having  summed  up  the  situation  in 
his  final  declaration,  he  turned  hastily  to  leave  the 
room  and  was  assured,  to  his  dismay,  that  Miss 
Corson  had  heard  the  declaration;  she  was  at  the 
threshold,  her  lips  apart;  she  was  plainly  balancing 
a  desire  to  flee  against  a  more  heroic  determination  to 
step  in  and  ignore  the  situation  and  the  words  which 
had  accompanied  it. 

Young  Mr.  Daunt  manfully  did  his  best  to  get 
that  situation  out  of  the  chancery  of  embarrassing 
silence. 

"Lana,  the  three  of  us  are  too  good  friends  to 
allow  this  foozle  to  make  us  feel  altogether  silly. 
Despite  present  appearances  I  don't  go  around 
making  speeches  on  a  certain  subject.  Nor  will  I 
lay  it  all  on  Dorrie  by  saying,  *The  woman  tempted 
me  and  I  fell.'" 

"Yes,  we  may  as  well  be  sensible,"  affirmed  Mrs. 
Stanton.  In  spite  of  her  momentary  embarrass- 
ment her  countenance  was  displaying  bland  satisfac- 
tion. This  was  an  occasion  to  be  grasped.  "I'll 
9  119 


All-Wool  Morrison 

say  right  out  frankly  that  I  consider  I'm  one  too 
many  in  this  room  just  now!" 

Lana  retreated  across  the  threshold.  She  was 
distinctly  frightened. 

Young  Mr.  Daunt  laughed  and  his  merriment 
helped  to  relieve  the  situation  still  more.  "Oh,  I 
say,  Lana!  This  isn't  a  trap  set  by  the  Daunts. 
You  come  right  in!     I'm  leaving!" 

"I  didn't  mean  to  overhear,"  the  girl  faltered 

"You  and  I  have  nothing  to  apologize  for — either 
of  us!  I  take  nothing  back,  but  this  is  no  kind  of  a 
time  to  go  forward.  I'd  be  taking  advantage  of 
your  confusion." 

"Well,  of  all  the  mincing  minuets!"  blurted  the 
young  matron.  "One  word  will  settle  it  all.  I  tell 
you,  I'm  going!" 

But  Daunt  rushed  to  the  door,  seized  Lana's  hands, 
and  swung  her  into  the  room.  "This  is  a  political 
night,  and  we'll  go  by  the  rules.  The  gentleman  has 
introduced  the  bill  and  on  motion  of  the  lady  it  has 
been  tabled.  But  it  will  be  taken  from  the  table  on 
a  due  and  proper  date  and  assigned  at  the  head  of 
the  calendar.  I  think  that's  the  way  the  Senator 
would  state  it.  It  ought  to  be  good  procedure." 
He  released  her  hands. 

"And  speaking  of  the  calendar,  Lana,  may  I  have 
a  peep  at  your  dance-list?" 

She  gave  him  the  engraved  card. 

"All  the  waltzes  for  me,  eh?"  he  queried,  wistfully. 
'**I  note  that  you're  free." 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

"One,  please,  Coventry — for  now!  No,  please 
select  some  of  the  new  dances.  You  know  them  all! 
Some  of  my  Marion  friends  are  old-fashioned  and  I 
must  humor  them  with  the  waltzes."  Her  hands 
were  trembling.  She  laughed  nervously.  "I  feel 
free  to  task  your  good  nature." 

"Thank  you,"  he  returned,  gratefully,  accepting 
the  implied  compHment  she  paid  him.  He  dabbed 
on  his  initials  here  and  there  and  hurried  away. 

Mrs.  Stanton  had  plenty  of  impetuous  zeal  for  all 
her  quests,  but  she  had  also  abundance  of  worldly 
tact.  "One  does  get  so  tremendously  interested  in 
friends  and  family,  Lana!  Affection  makes  nui- 
sances of  us  so  often !  But  no  more  about  it !  I  feel 
quite  happy  now.  Fm  even  so  kindly  disposed 
toward  politics  that  I'm  ready  to  go  down  and  dance 
for  the  cause,  whatever  it  is  your  father  and  mine 
are  going  after.  These  men  in  politics — they  always 
seem  to  me  to  be  like  small  boys  building  card 
houses.  Piling  up  and  puffing  down!  Putting  in 
little  tin  men  and  pulling  out  little  tin  men.  And 
to  judge  by  thee  verlasting  faultfinding,  nobody  is 
ever  satisfied  by  what  is  accomplished." 

Miss  Corson  plainly  welcomed  this  consoling  shift 
from  an  embarrassing  topic.  And,  in  order  to  get  as 
far  from  love  as  possible,  she  turned  to  business. 
When  she  and  her  friend  descended  the  broad  stair- 
way of  the  mansion  Lana  was  discoursing  on  the 
need  of  coaxing  men  of  big  commercial  affairs  into 
politics.     Her  views  were  rather  immature  and  her 

121 


All-Wool  Morrison 

fervor  was  a  bit  hysterical,  but  the  subject  was 
plainly  more  to  her  taste  than  that  on  which  Mrs. 
Stanton  had  been  dwelling. 

The  crowd  below  them,  as  they  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment on  the  landing,  half-way  down  the  stairs,  gave 
comforting  evidence  that  it  had  thinned,  according 
to  Lana's  prophecy.  The  receiving-line  was  broken. 
Senator  Corson  was  sauntering  here  and  there, 
saying  a  word  to  this  one  or  that  in  more  intimate 
manner  than  his  formal  post  in  the  line  permitted. 
Governor  North,  also  released  from  conventional 
restrictions  as  a  hand-shaker,  was  on  his  rounds 
and  wagged  his  coattails  and  barked  and  growled 
emphatically. 

The  word  "Law,"  oft  repeated,  fitted  itself  to  his 
growls;  when  he  barked  he  ejaculated,  "Election 
statutes!" 

"It's  a  pity  your  state  is  wasting  such  excellent 
material  on  the  mere  job  of  Governor,  Lana.  What 
a  perfectly  wonderful  warden  he  would  make  for  your 
state  prison,"  suggested  Mrs.  Stanton,  sweetly. 
But  she  did  not  provoke  a  reply  from  the  girl  and 
noted  that  Lana  was  frankly  interested  in  somebody 
else  than  the  Governor.  It  was  a  new  arrival;  his 
busy  exchange  of  greetings  revealed  that  fact. 

**Ah!  Your  dilatory  mayor  of  Marion!"  said  the 
matron,  needing  no  identification. 

Nor  did  Stewart  require  any  word  to  indicate  the 
whereabouts  of  the  hostess  of  the  Corson  mansion. 
His  eyes  had  been  searching  eagerly.     As  soon  as  he 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

saw  Lana  he  broke  away  from  the  group  of  men  who 
were  engaging  him.  The  Governor  accosted  Mor- 
rison sharply,  when  the  mayor  hurried  past  on  the 
way  to  the  stairway.  But  again,  within  a  few  hours, 
Stewart  slighted  the  chief  executive  of  the  state. 

"I  am  late,  I  fear,"  he  called  to  Lana,  leaping  up 
the  stairs.  "And  after  my  solemn  promise  to  come 
early!  But  you  excused  me  this  morning  when  I 
was  obliged  to  attend  to  petty  affairs.  Same  excuse 
this  time!     Do  I  receive  the  same  pardon?" 

The  girl  displayed  greater  ease  in  his  presence  at 
this  second  meeting.  She  received  him  placidly. 
There  were  no  more  of  those  disconcerting  and  high- 
flown  forensics  in  her  greeting.  There  was  the 
winning  candor  of  old  friendship  in  her  smile  and  he 
flushed  boyishly  in  his  frank  delight.  She  presented 
him  to  Mrs.  Stanton  and  that  lady's  modish  coolness 
did  not  dampen  his  spirits,  which  had  become  plainly 
exuberant.  In  fact,  he  paid  very  little  attention  to 
Mrs.  Stanton. 

"It  has  got  to  you,  Lana — ^this  coming  home 
again,  hasn't  it?"  he  demanded,  with  an  unconven- 
tionality  of  tone  and  phraseology  that  caused  the 
metropolitan  matron  to  express  her  startled  emo- 
tions by  a  blink.     "I  knew  it  would!" 

"I  am  glad  to  be  home,  Stewart.  But  I  have 
been  tiring  Mrs.  Stanton  by  my  enthusiasm  on  that 
subject,"  was  her  suggestive  move  toward  another 
topic.  "You're  in  time  for  the  dancing.  That's 
the  important  feature  of  the  evening." 

123 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Certainly!"  he  agreed.  "May  I  be  pardoned, 
Mrs.  Stanton,  for  consulting  my  hostess's  card 
first.?" 

He  secured  Lana's  program  without  waiting  for 
the  matron's  indifferent  permission. 

"A  waltz — two  waltzes,  anyway!"  he  declared. 
"They  settle  arrearages  in  your  accounts,  Lana, 
for  the  two  winters  you  have  been  away.  And  why 
not  another?"  He  was  scribbling  with  the  pencil. 
"  It  will  settle  the  current  bill." 

"It  is  a  business  age,"  murmured  Mrs.  Stanton, 
"and  collections  cannot  be  looked  after  too  sharply." 

"Will  you  not  permit  me  to  go  in  debt  to  you, 
madam  ? "  he  asked.  "  I'll  be  truly  obligated  if  you'll 
allow  me  to  put  my  name  on  your  card." 

"As  a  banker's  daughter,  I'll  say  that  the  refer- 
ences that  have  been  submitted  by  Miss  Corson  in 
regard  to  your  standing  are  excellent,"  said  Mrs. 
Stanton,  with  a  significance  meant  for  Lana's  con- 
fusion. But  while  she  was  detaching  the  tassel  from 
her  girdle  Governor  North  interrupted.  He  was 
standing  on  the  stairs,  just  below  the  little  group. 

"Excuse  me  for  breaking  in  on  the  party,  but  I'm 
due  at  the  State  House.  I'll  bother  you  only  a 
second,  Morrison.  Then  you  won't  have  a  thing  to 
do  except  be  nice  to  the  ladies." 

"I  know  I'll  be  excused  by  them  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. Governor."  He  started  to  descend.  His 
Excellency  put  up  his  hand. 

"We  can  attend  to  it  right  here,  Mister  Mayor!'* 

124 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

"  But  I  have  a  word  or  two — " 

"That's  all  I  have!"  was  the  blunt  retort.  "And 
I'm  in  a  hurry.  Have  you  got  'em  smoothed  down, 
according  to  our  understanding?" 

"I  have,  I  think!  But  whether  they'll  stay 
smooth  depends  on  you,  Governor  North!" 

"And  I  can  be  depended  on!  I  told  you  so  at  the 
office."     He  turned  away. 

"I  think  I  ought  to  have  a  few  words  with  you  in 
privat«e,  however,"  Morrison  insisted.  "That  gen- 
eral understanding  is  all  right.  But  I  need  to  know 
something  specific." 

The  Governor  was  well  down  the  stairs;  he  trudged 
energetically,  his  coattails  wagging  in  wide  arcs. 
It  was  not  premeditated  insolence;  it  was  the  usual 
manner  of  Lawrence  North  when  he  did  not  desire 
an  interview  prolonged  to  an  extent  that  might 
commit  him.  "I'll  be  at  the  State  House  in  case 
there's  any  need  of  my  attention  to  something 
specific.  I'll  attend  to  it  over  the  telephone — over 
the  telephone,  understand!" 

The  diversion  on  the  stairs  had  attracted  a  con- 
siderable audience  and  produced  a  result  that  inter- 
fered further  with  Stewart's  immediate  social  plans. 

Senator  Corson  came  across  the  reception-hall, 
beckoning  amiably,  and  the  three  descended  obedi- 
ently. 

"Stewart,  before  you  get  too  deep  into  the  fes- 
tivities with  the  girls,  I  want  you  to  have  a  bit  of  a 
chat  with  Mr.  Daunt.    We  arranged  it,  you  know." 

125 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"But  Stewart  isn't  up  here  to  attend  to  business, 
father,"  protested  the  daughter,  with  a  warmth  that 
the  subject  of  the  controversy  welcomed  with  a 
smile  of  gratitude. 

"There  is  an  urgent  reason  why  Mr.  Daunt  should 
have  a  few  words  with  Stewart  to-night — before  the 
legislature  assembles."  The  Senator  assumed  an  air 
of  mock  autocratic  dignity.  "I  command  the 
obedience  of  my  daughter!"  He  saw  the  banker 
approaching.  "I  call  on  you,  sir,  to  put  down 
rebellion  in  your  own  family!  These  daughters  of 
ours  propose  to  spirit  away  this  young  gentleman." 

"I'll  keep  you  from  the  merrymaking  only  a  few 
moments,  Mayor  Morrison,"  apologized  Daunt. 
"But  I  feel  that  it  is  quite  essential  for  us  to  get 
together  on  that  matter  we  mentioned  in  the  fore- 
noon. I*m  sure  that  only  a  few  words  will  put  us 
thoroughly  en  rapport" 

Mrs.  Stanton  lifted  her  eyebrows.  "That  phrase 
means  that  father  will  do  the  talking.  Mister  Mayor. 
I  recommend  that  you  go  along  with  him.  You 
won't  have  to  do  a  thing  except  listen.  You  can 
come  later  and  dance  with  us  with  all  your  energy 
unimpaired." 

"Yes!"  urged  Lana.  "The  waltzes  will  be 
waiting!" 

"Use  my  den.  Daunt!  If  I  can  get  away  from 
my  gang,  here,  I'll  run  in  on  you,"  stated  the  Sena- 
tor.    He  smacked  his  palm  on  Stewart's  shoulder. 

"I  know  you  always  put  business  ahead  of  pleasure, 

126 


The  Thin  Crust  Over  Boiling  Lava 

though  it  may  be  hard  to  do  it  in  this  case,  my  boy! 
But  after  you  and  my  friend  Daunt  get  matters  all 
tied  up  snug  you  won't  have  a  thing  to  do  for  the 
rest  of  the  night  but  enjoy  yourself  and  be  nice  to 
the  girls — not  another  thing,  Stewart." 


VIII 

A   ROD   IN   PICKLE 

11  X  7ITH  great  promptitude  Attorney  Despeaux 
^  '  fastened  upon  Blanchard,  of  the  Conawin,  the 
moment  the  latter  left  the  company  of  Mayor  Mor- 
rison on  the  arrival  of  the  twain  at  the  Corson 
mansion;  and  Mr.  Blanchard  seemed  alertly  wilHng 
to  break  oiF  his  companionship  with  the  passenger 
he  had  brought  in  his  limousine. 

"What's  that  bull-headed  fool  been  stirring  up 
down-town?'*  demanded  Despeaux  when  he  had 
Blanchard  safely  to  himself  in  a  corner. 

"Have  you  heard  something  about  it?" 

**I  was  called  on  the  'phone  a  few  minutes  ago." 

"Who  called  you?" 

"No  matter!  But  hold  on,  Blanchard!  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  that  I'm  using  a  part  of  our  fund  to  have 
Morrison  shadowed.  I  suppose  the  reason  you  went 
along  was  to  get  a  line  on  him.  But  it  was  impru- 
dent.    It  looked  like  lending  your  countenance." 

Blanchard  explained  sullenly  why  he  did  accom- 
pany Morrison  to  the  meeting. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  were  there  and  heard  him 

128 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

inflaming  the  mob,"  admitted  the  syndicate's  lobby- 
ist and  lawyer.  **I  want  to  have  Senator  Corson 
fully  informed  on  the  point  and  it  will  come  better 
from  you  than  from  a  paid  detective.  Give  it  to 
Corson,  and  give  it  to  him  strong!" 

"I  don't  know  that  I  can  justly  say  that  he  was 
inflaming  the  mob,"  demurred  Blanchard. 

"But  you've  got  to  say  it!  You  must  make  it 
appear  that  way!  Blanchard,  it  has  come  to  a  clinch 
and  we  must  smash  Morrison's  credit  in  every  direc- 
tion. I  didn't  realize  till  to-day  that  he  is  out  to 
blow  up  the  whole  works.  Didn't  he  preach  to  you 
on  the  text  of  that  infernal  people-partner  notion 
of  his?" 

"Yes!    He's  crazy!" 

"The  people  own  the  moon,  if  you  want  to  put  it 
that  way!  But  they  can't  do  anything  sensible  with 
it,  any  more  than  they  can  with  ownership  of  the 
state's  water-power." 

The  Conawin  magnate  exhibited  bewilderment. 
"Despeaux,  I'm  a  business  man.  I  suppose  you 
lawyers  go  to  work  in  a  different  way  than  we  do  in 
business.  But  as  I  have  read  the  propaganda  you're 
putting  out — as  I  understand  it — you  are  shouting 
for  the  people's  rights,  too!" 

"I    am!     Strongly!     Right    out    open!    I    even 

preached  on  people's  rights  to  Morrison  this  very 

day — and  looked  him  right  in  that  canny  Scotch  eye 

of  his  while  I  preached.    I  like  to  keep  in  good 

practice!" 

129 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Then  why  is  Morrison  so  dangerous,  if  he's  only 
doing  what  you  do?"  inquired  the  business  man,  with 
an  artlessness  that  the  attorney  greeted  with  an 
oath. 

"Because  the  infernal  ramrod  means  what  he 
says,  Blanchard!" 

"  But  if  you  don't  mean  it — if  you  have  put  your- 
self on  record — and  if  you're  obliged  to  step  up  and 
honor  the  draft  you've  sanctioned — what's  going  to 
happen  in  the  showdown?" 

Attorney  Despeaux  moderated  his  mordancy  and 
became  tolerantly  patient  in  enlightening  the  ig- 
norance of  one  of  his  employers.  "The  people  are 
hungry  for  some  kind  of  fodder  in  this  water-power 
proposition.  I've  been  telling  all  you  power-owners 
so!  We'll  have  to  admit  it,  Blanchard!  The  time 
is  played  out  when  you  can  drive  the  people  in  this 
country.  You've  got  to  be  a  nice,  kind  shepherd 
and  get  their  confidence  and  lead  'em.  I'm  a  shep- 
herd! See?"  He  patted  himself  on  the  breast. 
"There  are  two  cribs!" 

"You'll  have  to  name  'em  to  me,  Despeaux. 
I'm  apt  to  be  pretty  dull  outside  of  matters  in  my 
own  line." 

"I  guess  I'd  do  better  to  designate  the  chaps  who 
are  managing  the  cribs."  The  two  men  were  in  a 
window  embrasure.  Despeaux  pointed  to  one  side 
of  the  niche.  "Over  there,  behold  Morrison  and  his 
*  storage  and  power'  crowd,  made  up  of  pig-headed 
engineers   and   scientific  experts  who   are  thinking 

130 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

only  of  how  much  power  can  be  developed  for  the 
people  as  proprietors;  over  here,  the  public  utilities 
commission  made  up  of  safe  men,  judiciously  ap- 
pointed, tractable  in  politics,  consistently  on  the 
side  of  vested  interests  and  right  on  the  job  to  see  to 
it  that  the  state  keeps  its  contracts  with  capital.  I 
propose  to  be  something  of  a  shepherd  and  lead  the 
people  to  the  public  utilities  crib!  And  I'm  going 
to  show  folks  that  they'll  be  eating  poison-ivy  out 
of  the  Morrison  crib — even  if  I  have  to  put  the  poison- 
ivy  in  there  myself.  This  is  no  time  to  be  squeamish, 
Blanchard!  You've  got  to  do  your  part  in  nailing 
a  disturber  like  Morrison  to  the  cross.  Speak  like  a 
business  man  and  say  that  he  is  dangerous  in  good 
business.  We've  got  a  Governor  who  is  safe;  we've 
got  to  have  a  legislature  that  will  see  to  it  that  the 
committees  are  all  right.  And  that's  why  we're 
standing  no  monkey  business  from  any  mob  up  on 
Capitol  Hill  to-night!  Down  at  that  hall,  so  my 
man  told  me,  Morrison  talked  as  if  he's  going  to 
take  hold  and  run  the  state!     Didn't  he?" 

"Well,  one  might  draw  some  such  conclusions,  I 
suppose,  by  stretching  his  words!" 

"Blanchard,  you  must  stretch  words  when  you 

talk  to  Senator  Corson  and  to  all  others  who  need 

to  be  stirred  up   and  can  help  us.     If  that  wild 

Scotchman  butts  into  this  plan  he's  inviting  trouble, 

and  we've  got  to  see  that  he  gets  it.     He's  got  to  be 

choked   now   or   never!     Don't   have   any   mercy! 

Just  look  at  it  this  way!    Talk  it  this  way!     He's 

131 


All-Wool  Morrison 

turning  on  his  own,  if  he  does  what  he  threatens! 
He  played  the  sneak,  he,  a  mill-owner,  getting  on  to 
that  commission!  And  he  proposes  to  shove  in  a 
report  that  will  smother  development  by  outside 
capital.  Play  up  the  reason  for  his  interest  in  the 
thing  along  that  line!  A  hog  for  himself!  It's  easy 
to  turn  public  sentiment  by  the  right  kind  of  talk! 
If  I  really  start  out  to  go  the  limit  I  can  have  him 
tarred  and  feathered  as  a  chief  conspirator,  rigging 
a  scheme  to  have  our  big  industries  knocked  in  the 
head." 

Despeaux  spoke  low,  but  his  tone  conveyed  the 
malice  and  the  menace  of  a  man  who  had  been 
nursing  a  grudge  for  a  long  time.  "Two  years  ago 
his  newspaper  letters  and  his  rant  killed  that  Con- 
solidated project,  and  I  had  a  contingent  fee  of  fifty 
thousand  dollars  at  stake;  as  it  was,  I  got  only  a 
little  old  regular  lobby  fee  and  my  expense  money. 
And  the  power  hasn't  been  developed  by  the  in- 
fernal, dear,  protected  people,  has  it.^*"  he  sneered. 
**If  the  Consolidated  folks  had  been  let  alone  and 
given  their  franchise,  we'd  now  be  marketing  over 
our  high-tension  wires  two  millions  of  horse-power 
in  big  centers  tw^o  or  three  hundred  miles  from  this 
state. 

"Well,  I'm  not  so  awfully  strong,  myself,  for  mak- 
ing a  mere  power  station  of  our  own  state,  and  letting 
outsiders  ship  our  juice  over  the  border." 

"But  you  ought  to  be  devilish  strong  against  a 

man  who  is  proposing  to  have  the  state  break  existing 

132 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

contracts,  take  back  power  rights  and  franchises  and 
make  you  simply  a  lessee  of  what  you  already  own! 
You've  got  yours!  Give  the  outsiders  a  show! 
It's  all  snarled  up  together,  Blanchard,  and  you've 
got  to  kill  him  and  his  crowd  and  their  whole  mushy, 
socialistic  scheme  and  eliminate  him  from  the  propo- 
sition. Then  we  can  go  ahead  and  do  something 
sensible  in  this  state!"  affirmed  Mr.  Despeaux,  with 
the  lustful  ardor  of  one  who  foresaw  the  possibility 
of  eliminating,  also,  the  hateful  word  "contingent" 
in  the  case  of  fees. 

But  Business-man  Blanchard  was  displaying  symp- 
toms of  worriment. 

The  la%vyer  viewed  with  concern  this  evidence  of 
backsliding,  but  his  attention  was  suddenly  diverted 
from  his  companion;  then  Despeaux  nudged  Blanch- 
ard and  directed  the  latter's  gaze  by  a  thumb  jerk. 

They  saw  Morrison  hurry  up  the  stairs  to  greet 
Lana  Corson  when  she  appeared  with  her  house 
guest.  The  attorney  seemed  to  be  vastly  interested 
in  the  scene. 

"I  don't  mean  to  scare  you,'*  went  on  Despeaux, 
his  manner  milder.  "I'm  not  planning  to  commit 
murder  or  steal  a  state!  It's  Morrison  right  now! 
He's  the  one  we're  after!  This  whole  thing  may  be 
taken  care  of  in  another  way — so  easily  that  it  may 
make  us  smile.  I've  been  keeping  my  eyes  open, 
Blanchard — ears,  too!  Did  you  see  Morrison  rush 
to  the  Senator's  daughter.?  A  fellow  can  work  him- 
self into  a  terrible  state  of  worry  over  the  dear,  un- 

133 


All-Wool  Morrison 

protected  people,  when  he  nas  nothing  else  better 
to  take  up  his  mind.  But  after  a  Scotchman  goes 
crazy  over  a  girl — well,  when  the  whole  of  'em  hold 
Poet  Bobby  Bums  up  as  the  type  of  their  race,  they 
know  what  they're  talking  about!" 

"I  can  hardly  conceive  of  Morrison  being  a  poet 
or  relishing  poetry  or  the  ways  of  a  poet,"  re- 
turned Blanchard,  dryly. 

"And  he  probably  has  never  read  a  line  of  it  in 
his  whole  life,"  agreed  Despeaux.  "But  that  isn't 
the  point!  You  may  think  I've  gone  off  on  a  queer 
tack,  all  of  a  sudden,  but  I  know  human  nature! 
That  girl  is  back  here  with  a  slick  young  fellow,  and 
he's  the  pepper  in  a  certain  mess  of  Scotch  broth 
that  has  been  heated  up  all  over  again,  if  I'm  any 
guesser.  That  girl  has  been  living  in  Washington, 
Blanchard.  It's  a  great  school!  I've  been  watching 
her  shake  hands.  You  saw  her  just  now  when  she 
shook  with  our  friend,  the  mayor.  That  girl  isn't 
down  here  on  this  trip  simply  to  see  whether  the 
care-takers  have  been  looking  after  the  Corson  man- 
sion in  good  shape,"  opined  the  cynical  Mr.  Des- 
peaux, having  excellent  personal  reasons  to  distrust 
everybody  else  in  the  matter  of  motives. 

"That  sort  of  a  trick  is  beneath  Senator  Corson 
and  his  daughter." 

"Well,"  drawled  the  lawyer,  "that  all  depends 
how  closely  he  and  Silas  Daunt  are  tied  up  in  a 
common  interest  in  this  water-power  question  and 
other  matters.     I  suspect  everybody  in  this  world. 

134 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

1  go  on  that  principle.  It  eases  my  mind  about 
slipping  something  over  on  the  other  fellow  when  I 
get  the  chance.  I'm  talking  out  pretty  frankly, 
Blanchard,  to  a  man  who  has  his  money  in  the  syn- 
dicate pool,  as  you  have!  But  I  play  square  with 
the  crowd  I  take  money  from,  so  long's  I'm  with  'em. 
The  fee  makes  me  yours  to  command,  heart  and  soul! 
There's  something — some  one  thing — ^that  can  con- 
trol every  man,  according  to  his  tastes.  Stewart 
Morrison  can  be  controlled  right  now  by  that  black- 
eyed  Corson  girl  more  effectually  than  he  can  by 
any  other  person  or  consideration  on  God's  earth. 
I've  known  him  ever  since  he  was  a  boy — I  have 
watched  the  thing  between  'em — and  now  that  she's 
back  here  where  he  can  see  her,  be  near  her,  and  be 
worried  by  the  sight  of  another  fellow  trailing  her, 
he'll  be  doing  more  thinking  about  her  than  he  will 
about  the  partner-people,  as  he  calls  that  dream  of 
his  about  something  that  isn't  so!  I  wish  I  could 
know  just  how  sly  the  Senator  is!  I  wish  I  could 
get  a  line  on  what's  underneath  that  girl's  curly 
topknot,"  he  said,  fervently. 

Apparently  absorbed  by  that  speculation.  Lawyer 
Despeaux  again  gave  close  attention  to  the  tableau 
on  the  landing  presented  by  Lana,  Mrs.  Stanton,  and 
Morrison. 

When  Governor  North  marched  up  the  stairs, 
said  his  vociferous  say,  and  marched  down    again 
Despeaux   grunted    his    satisfaction.     "That's   the 
talk,  old  boy!     Show  him  where  he  gets  off!'* 
10  135 


All'Wool  Morrison 

The  manner  in  which  Senator  Corson  handed  Mor- 
rison over  to  Silas  Daunt  elicited  further  commenda- 
tion from  the  lawyer.  "He's  being  pulled  into  camp 
smoothly  and  scientifically,  Blanchard!  The  Sen- 
ator is  on  to  his  job,  but  did  you  see  Morrison's  mug 
when  he  had  to  leave  the  girl?" 

"I'll  admit  that  it's  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  him 
make  up  a  face  when  he  was  called  on  to  tend  to 
business!" 

"The  Senator  is  a  wise  old  bird !  He  knows  human 
nature  down  to  the  ground.  He's  got  the  right  kind 
of  a  daughter  to  help  him,  and  he's  making  her  use- 
ful. It's  a  case  of  shutting  Morrison's  mouth,  and 
Corson  is  hep  to  the  right  play.  I  don't  think  the 
Senator  needs  any  advice  from  us,  but  a  little  of  the 
proper  kind  of  information  about  Morrison's  latest 
demfoolishness  will  make  Corson  understand  that  he 
needs  to  put  some  hot  pep  as  well  as  sugar  into  his 
politeness.  We'll  get  to  him  as  soon  as  we  can. 
Make  it  strong,  Blanchard,  make  it  strong!" 

As  soon  as  opportunity  offered,  Blanchard  did 
make  it  strong.  He  was  harboring  a  pretty  large- 
sized  grudge  of  his  own  in  the  case  of  Morrison,  and 
it  was  easy  to  put  malice  into  the  report  he  gave 
the  Senator. 

"But  hold  on!"  protested  Corson.  "You're 
making  Stewart  out  to  be  a  radical  as  red  as  any  of 
them!" 

"I  can't  help  that.  Senator,"  retorted  the  millman. 

"He  dragged  me  down  to  his  cursed  meeting  over 

136 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

my  protest  and  he  made  a  speech  that  put  himself 
in  hand  in  glove  with  'em." 

Corson  pursed  his  lips  and  displayed  the  concern 
of  a  friend  who  had  heard  bad  news  regarding  a 
favorite.  "I  always  found  the  boy  a  bit  inclined  to 
mix  high-flown  notions  in  with  the  business  prac- 
ticality of  his  family.  But  I  didn't  realize  that  he 
was  going  so  far  wrong  in  his  theories.  That's  the 
danger  in  permitting  even  one  unsound  doctrine  to 
get  into  a  level-headed  chap's  apple-basket,  gentle- 
men! First  thing  you  know,  it  has  affected  all  the 
fruit.  I'm  glad  you  told  me.  I'm  not  surprised 
that  your  arguments  have  had  no  effect,  Despeaux. 
He's  naturally  headstrong.  Do  you  know,  these 
fellows  wfth  poetic,  chivalrous  natures  are  hard  boys 
to  bring  to  reason  in  certain  practical  matters?" 

"I  was  just  telling  Despeaux  that  I  never  saw 
much  poetry  senriment  in  Stewart  Morrison,'* 
affirmed  the  millman. 

Senator    Corson's    condescending    smile    assured 

Mr.  Blanchard  that  he  was  all  wrong.     "He  was 

much  in  our  family  as  a  boy.     Very  sentimental  if 

approached   from  the  right   angle!    Very!    And   I 

think  this  is   a  matter  to  be  handled  wholly  by 

Stewart's  closest  friends.     Sentiment  has  led  him 

off  on  a  wrong  slant.     He'll  only  fight  harder  if  he's 

tackled  by  a  man  like  you,  Despeaux.     That's  the 

style  of  him.     But  in  his   case   sentiment  can  be 

guided  by  sentiment.     And  all  for  his  best  good! 

He  mustn't  run  wild  in  this  folly!    I  believe  there's 

137 


All-Wool  Morrison 

no  one  who  can  approach  him  with  more  tact  than 
my  daughter  Lana."  Despeaux  found  an  oppor- 
tunity to  dig  his  thumb  suggestively  into  Blanchard's 
side.  "They  have  been  extremely  good  friends,  I 
believe,  in  boy-and-girl  fashion;  between  us  three 
old  townsmen,  I'll  go  as  far  as  to  say  they  were 
very  much  interested  in  each  other.  But  in  the  case 
of  both  of  'em  their  horizons  are  naturally  wider 
these  days;  however,  first-love  affairs,  even  if 
rather  silly,  are  often  the  basis  for  really  sensible 
and  enduring  friendships.  And  friendship  must 
handle  this  thing.  We'll  leave  it  to  Lana.  I'll 
speak  to  her." 

He  went  on  his  way  toward  the  ballroom,  pausing 
to  chat  with  this  or  that  group  of  constituents. 

**There!"  exclaimed  the  lawyer,  relieving  his 
high  pressure  by  a  vigorous  exhalation  of  breath. 
"What  did  I  tell  you?" 

"It's  mighty  kind  and  sensible  of  the  Senator! 
Morrison  is  making  a  big  mistake  and  the  way  to 
handle  him  is  by  friendship." 

"Friendship  hell!" 

"Say,  look  here,  Despeaux,  I  don't  believe  in 
spoiling  my  teeth  by  biting  every  coin  that's  handed 
to  me  in  this  world." 

"Are  you  as  devilish  green  as  you  pretend  to  be, 
Blanchard?  If  you  had  ever  hung  around  in  Wash- 
ington as  I  have,  you'd  have  wisdom  teeth  growing 
so  fast  that  they'd  keep  your  jaws  propped  open 

like  a  country  yap's  unless  you  kept  'em  filed  by 

138 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

biting  all  the  coin  of  con  I  Now  I  know  what's  in 
the  Senator's  dome  and  what's  under  his  girl's  top- 
knot! But  let's  not  argue  about  that.  Let's  take 
a  look  at  the  probabilities  in  regard  to  the  water- 
power  matter — that's  of  more  importance  just  now. 
I  doubt  that  even  friendship" — he  dwelt  satirically 
on  the  word — "can  shut  Morrison  up  on  the  storage 
report  that  he  will  shove  into  the  legislature.  But 
we're  going  to  have  safe  committees  this  year, 
thanks  to  the  election  laws  and  guns,  and  that  report 
will  be  pocketed.  Then  if  Morrison  keeps  still 
about  making  the  dear  people  millionaires  by  having 
'em  peddle  their  puddles  to  the  highest  bidders, 
capital  can  go  ahead  and  do  business  in  this  state. 
I  think  his  mouth  is  going  to  be  effectively  shut! 
The  right  operators  are  on  the  job ! " 

Despeaux  took  a  peep  at  his  watch. 

"Time  slipped  by  while  we  were  waiting  to  get  at 
Corson.  Daunt  has  had  half  an  hour  for  laying 
down  the  law  to  Morrison.  And  Daunt  can  do  a 
whole  lot  of  business  in  half  an  hour." 

"He'll  only  stir  up  Morrison's  infernal  scrapping 
spirit  by  laying  down  the  law,"  objected  Blanchard, 
sourly. 

Despeaux  took  both  of  the  millman's  coat  lapels 
in  his  clutch.  "He'll  lay  down  in  front  of  Morrison 
the  prospect  of  the  profits  to  be  made  by  the  deal 
that  is  proposed.  And  if  you  had  ever  heard  Silas 
Daunt  talk  profits  as  a  promoter  you  would  reckon 
just  as  I'm  reckoning,  Blanchard — to  see  our  Scotch 

139 


All-Wool  Morrison 

friend  come  out  of  that  conference  walking  like  the 
man  who  broke  the  bank  at  Monte  Carlo,  instead  of 
bobbing  around  astraddle  of  that  damnation  hobby- 
goat  of  his!  Daunt  can  talk  money  in  the  same 
tone  that  a  Holy  Roller  revivalist  talks  religion, 
Blanchard!    And  he  makes  converts,  he  sure  does!" 

A  moment  later  the  mayor  of  Marion  strode  across 
the  reception-hall. 

Lawyer  Despeaux,  giving  critical  attention,  was 
not  ready  to  affirm  that  Morrison's  gait  was  that  of 
a  man  who  had  broken  a  bank.  But  the  manner  in 
which  he  marched,  shoulders  back  and  chin  up,  and 
the  dabs  of  color  on  his  cheeks,  would  have  suggested 
to  a  particularly  observant  person  that  the  mayor 
had  broken  something.  He  pushed  past  those  who 
addressed  him  and  went  on  toward  the  ballroom, 
staring  straight  ahead;  the  music  was  pulsing  in  the 
ballroom;  he  seemed  to  be  thoroughly  entranced  by 
the  strains;  at  any  rate,  he  was  attending  strictly  to 
the  business  of  going  somewhere !  He  passed  Senator 
Corson,  who  was  returning  to  the  reception-hall;  the 
mayor  gave  his  host  only  a  nod. 

While  the  Senator  stood  and  gazed  at  the  pre- 
cipitate young  man,  Banker  Daunt,  following  on 
Morrison's  trail,  arrived  in  front  of  Corson. 

Lawyer  Despeaux  stepped  from  the  window  em- 
brasure to  get  a  good  view  and  was  not  at  all  reas- 
sured by  Daunt's  looks.  The  banker  displayed 
none  of  the  symptoms  of  a  victor.     There  was  more 

of  choler  than  complacency  in  his  air.     He  hooked 

140 


A  Rod  in  Pickle 

his  aim  inside  the  Senator's  elbow  and  they  went 
away  together. 

**  Blanchard,"  said  the  lawyer,  after  a  period  of 
pondering,  "that  infernal  Scotch  idiot  says  that  he 
isn't  interested  in  politics  and  now  he  seems  to  have 
put  promoting  in  the  same  class.  Our  hope  is  that 
he's  interested  in  something  else.  Suppose  we  stroll 
along  and  see  just  how  much  interested  he  is." 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  ballroom  Morrison 
was  waltzing  with  Lana. 

He  was  distinctly  another  person  from  that  tense, 
saturnine,  defiant,  brusk  person  who  strode  through 
the  reception-hall.  He  was  radiantly  and  boyishly 
happy.  He  was  clasping  the  girl  tenderly.  He  direct- 
ed her  steps  in  a  small  circle  outside  the  throng  of 
dancers,  and  waltzed  as  slowly  as  the  tempo  would 
allow.     He  was  talking  earnestly. 

"Look  at  him!  There  you  have  it!"  whispered 
Despeaux,  recovering  his  confidence.  "Every  man 
has  his  price — but  it's  a  mistake  to  think  that  the 
price  must  always  be  counted  down  in  cash.  Daunt 
didn't  act  as  if  he  had  captured  our  friend.  He's 
dancing  to  a  girl's  tune  now.  Corson  will  whistle  a 
jig  when  he  gets  ready  and  Morrison  will  dance  to 
that  tune,  too!" 


tx 

MAKING   IT  A   SQUARE    BREAK 

TN  the  privacy  of  Senator  Corson's  study  Mr. 
■'■  Daunt  had  allowed  himself  to  raise  his  voice  and 
express  some  decided  opinions  bv  the  way  of  venting 
his  emotions. 

In  his  heat  he  disregarded  the  amenities  that 
should  govern  a  guest  in  the  presence  of  his  host. 
In  fact,  Mr.  Daunt  asserted  that  the  host  was  partly 
responsible  for  the  awkward  pos'tion  in  ^'t^hich  Mr. 
Daunt  found  himself 

The  Senator,  whenever  he  was  able  to  make  him- 
self heard,  put  in  protesting  "buts.**  Mr.  Daunt, 
riding  his  grievance  wildly,  hurdled  every  "but'* 
and  kept  right  on.  "Confound  it,  Corson,  I  ac- 
cepted him  as  your  friend,  as  your  guest,  as  a  gentle- 
man under  the  roof  of  a  mutual  friend.  Most  of  all, 
I  accepted  him  as  a  safe  and  sane  business  man.  I 
talked  to  him  as  I  would  to  the  gentlemen  who  put 
their  feet  under  my  table.  I  know  how  to  be  cau- 
tious in  the  case  of  men  I  meet  in  places  of  business. 
But  you  bring  this  man  to  your  house  and  you  put 

me  next  to  him  with  the  assurance  that  he  is  all 

142 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

right — and  I  go  ahead  with  him  on  that  basis.  I 
was  perfectly  and  entirely  honest  with  him.  I  dis- 
regarded all  the  rules  that  govern  me  in  ordinary 
business  offices,'*  the  banker  added,  too  excited  to 
appreciate  the  grim  humor  flashed  by  the  flint  and 
the  steel  of  his  last,  juxtaposed  sentences. 

"You  say  you  told  him  all  your  plans  in  full?" 
suggested  Corson,  referring  to  the  outburst  with 
which  Daunt  began  his  arraignment  of  the  situation. 

"Of  course  I  told  him!  You  gave  me  no  warning. 
I  dealt  with  him,  gentleman  with  gentleman,  under 
your  roof!'* 

"I  didn't  think  it  was  necessary  to  counsel  a  man 
like  you  about  the  ordinary  prudence  required  in  all 
business  matters." 

"I  had  his  word  in  his  own  office  that  he  was 
heartily  with  me.  You  told  me  he  was  as  square  as 
a  brick  when  it  came  to  his  word.  I  went  on  that 
basis,  Corson!" 

"I'm  sorry,"  admitted  the  Senator.  "I  thought 
I  knew  Stewart  through  and  through.  But  I 
haven't  been  keeping  in  touch  as  closely  as  I  ought. 
I  have  heard  things  this  evening — "     He  hesitated. 

"You  have  heard  things — and  still  you  allowed 
me  to  go  on  and  empty  my  basket  in  front  of  him  ? " 

"I  heard  'em  only  after  you  were  closeted  here 
with  him.  Daunt.  And  I  can't  believe  it's  as  bad 
as  it  has  been  represented  to  me.  And  even  as  it 
stands,  I  think  I  know  how  to  handle  him.  I  have 
already  taken  steps  to  that  end." 

143 


AU-Wool  Morrison 

"How?" 

"Please  accept  my  say-so  for  the  time  being, 
Daunt!  It  isn*t  a  matter  to  be  canvassed  be- 
tween us." 

"I  suppose  you  learn  that  sort  of  reticence  in 
politics,  even  in  the  case  of  a  friend,  Corson," 
growled  the  banker.  "I  wish  I  had  taken  a  few 
lessons  from  you  before  talking  with  one  of  your 
friends  this  evening." 

"Was  it  necessary  for  you  to  do  so  much  talking 
before  you  got  a  line  on  his  opinions?" 

"Confound  it,  Corson,  with  that  face  of  his — 
with  that  candor  in  his  countenance — he  looks  as 
good  and  reliable  as  a  certified  check — and  in  addi- 
tion I  had  your  indorsement  of  him." 

"I  felt  that  I  had  a  right  to  indorse  him."  The 
Senator  showed  spirit.  "Daunt,  I  don't  like  to 
hear  you  condemn  Stewart  Morrison  so  utterly." 

"Not  utterly!  He  has  qualities  of  excellence! 
For  instance,  he's  a  damnation  fine  listener,"  stated 
the  disgusted  banker. 

"But  he  couldn't  have  thrown  down  your  whole 
proposition — he  couldn't  have  done  that,  after  the 
prospects  you  held  out  to  him,  as  you  outlined  them 
to  me  when  we  first  discussed  the  matter,"  Corson 
insisted.  "Morrison  has  a  good  business  head  on 
him.  He  comes  of  business  stock.  He  has  made  a 
big  success  of  his  mill.  He  must  be  on  the  watch 
for  more  opportunities.     All  of  us  are." 

"Well,  here  was  the  offer  I  made  to  him,  seeing 

144 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

that  he  is  a  friend  of  yours,"  said  Banker  Daunt, 
dilating  his  nostrils  when  he  dwelt  on  the  word 
"friend."  "I  offered  to  double  his  own  appraisal 
of  his  properties  when  we  pay  him  in  the  preferred 
stock  of  the  consolidation.  I  told  him  that  he  would 
receive,  like  the  others,  an  equal  amount  of  common 
stock  for  a  bonus.  I  assured  him  that  we  would  be 
able  to  pay  dividends  on  the  common.  And  he 
asked  me  particularly  if  I  was  certain  that  dividends 
would  be  paid  on  the  common.  I  gave  him  that 
assurance  as  a  financier  who  knows  his  card." 
Daunt  had  been  attempting  to  curb  his  passion  and 
talk  in  a  business  man*s  tone  while  on  the  matter  of 
figures.  But  he  abandoned  the  struggle  to  keep 
calm.  He  cracked  his  knuckles  on  the  table  and 
shouted :  **  But  do  you  know — can  you  imagine  what 
he  said  after  I  had  twice  assured  him  as  to  those 
dividends  on  common,  replying  to  his  repeated 
questions?     Can  you?" 

"No,"  admitted  Corson,  having  reason  to  be 
considerably  uncertain  in  regard  to  Stewart  Morri- 
son's newly  developed  notions  about  affairs  in 
general. 

"He  told  me  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself — 
then  he  pulled  out  his  watch  and  apologized  for 
monopolizing  me  so  long  on  a  gay  evening,  hoped  I 
was  enjoying  it,  and  said  he  must  hurry  away  and 
dance  with  Miss  Corson.  What  did  he  mean  by 
saying  that  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself? 
What  did  he  mean  by  that  gratuitous  insult  to  a 

I4S 


All-Wool  Morrison 

man  who  had  made  him  a  generous  proposition  in 
straight  business — ^to  a  guest  under  your  roof, 
Senator  Corson?" 

"By  gad!  I'll  find  out  what  it  means!"  snapped 
the  Senator,  pricked  in  his  pride  and  in  his  sense  of 
responsibility  as  a  go-between.  He  pushed  a 
button  in  the  row  on  his  study  table.  "This  new 
job  as  mayor  seems  to  be  playing  some  sort  of  a 
devil's  trick  with  Stewart.  I'll  admit.  Daunt,  that 
I  didn't  relish  some  of  the  priggish  preachment  on 
politics  mouthed  by  him  in  his  office  when  we  were 
there.  But  I  didn't  pay  much  attention — any 
more  than  I  did  to  his  exaggerated  flourish  in  the 
way  he  attended  to  city  business.  The  new  brooms ! 
You  know!" 

"Yes,  I  know!"  The  banker  was  sardonic.  "I 
could  overlook  his  display  of  importance  when  he 
neglected  gentlemen  in  order  to  parade  his  tuppenny 
mayor's  business.  I  paid  no  attention  to  his 
vaporings  on  the  water  question.  I've  heard  plenty 
of  franchise-owners  talk  that  way  for  effect!  He's 
an  especially  avaricious  Scot,  isn't  he?  Confound 
him!  how  much  more  shall  I  offer  him?" 

"I'll   admit  that  Stewart   seems  to  be   different 

these  days  in  some  respects,  but  unless  he  has  made 

a  clean  change  of  all  his  nature  in  this  shift  of  some 

of  his  ideas,  you'd  better  not  offer  him  any  more!" 

warned  the  Senator.     "I  never  detected  any  *For 

Sale'  sign  on  him!" 

The  Senator's  secretary  stepped  into  the  study. 

146 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

"Find  Mayor  Morrison  in  the  ballroom  and  tell 
him  I  want  to  see  him  here." 

"Corson,  you're  a  United  States  Senator,"  pro- 
ceeded the  banker  when  the  man  had  departed, 
"  and  your  position  enables  you  to  take  a  broad  view 
of  business  in  general.  But  naturally  you're  for 
your  own  state  first  of  all." 

"Certainly!     Loyally  so!" 

"I  think  you  thoroughly  understand  my  play 
for  consolidated  development  of  the  water-power 
here.  Every  single  unit  should  be  put  at  work  for 
the  good  of  the  country.     Isn't  that  so?" 

"Yes,  decidedly." 

"To  set  up  such  arbitrary  boundaries  as  state 
lines  in  these  matters  of  development  is  a  narrow 
and  selfish  policy,"  insisted  Daunt.  "It  would  be 
like  the  coal  states  refusing  to  sell  their  surplus  to 
the  country  at  large.  If  this  Morrison  proposes  to 
play  the  bigoted  demagogue  in  the  matter,  exciting 
the  people  to  attempt  impractical  control  that  will 
paralyze  the  whole  proposition,  he  must  be  stepped 
on.  You  can  show  due  regard  for  the  honor  and  the 
prosperity  of  your  own  state,  but  as  a  statesman, 
working  for  the  general  welfare  of  the  country  at 
large,  you've  got  to  take  a  broader  view  than  his." 

"I  do.     I  can  make  Stewart  understand." 

Daunt  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  easing  his 
turgid  neck  against  a  damp  collar.  The  Senator 
pondered. 

The  secretary,  after  a  time,  tapped  and  entered. 

147 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Mayor  Morrison  is  not  in  the  ballroom,  sir.  And 
I  could  not  find  him." 

"You  should  have  inquired  of  Miss  Corson." 

"I  could  not  find  Miss  Corson." 

The  Senator  started  for  the  door.  He  turned  and 
went  back  to  Daunt.  "It's  all  right!  I  gave  her  a 
bit  of  a  commission.  It's  in  regard  to  Morrison. 
She  seems  to  be  attending  to  it  faithfully.  Be  easy ! 
I'll  bring  him." 

The  father  went  straight  to  the  library.  He  knew 
the  resources  of  his  own  mansion  in  the  matter  of 
nooks  for  a  tete-a-tete  interview;  now  he  was  par- 
ticularly assisted  by  remembrance  of  Stewart's 
habits  in  the  old  days.  He  found  his  daughter  and 
the  mayor  of  Marion  cozily  ensconced  among  the 
cushions  of  a  deep  window-seat. 

Stewart  was  listening  intently  to  the  girl,  his  chin 
on  his  knuckles,  his  elbow  propped  on  his  knee. 
His  forehead  was  puckered;  he  was  gazing  at  her 
with  intent  seriousness. 

"Senator  Corson,"  warned  the  girl,  "we  are  in 
executive  session." 

"I  see!  I  understand!  But  I  need  Stewart  ur- 
gently for  a  few  moments." 

"I  surrendered  him  willingly  a  httle  while  ago. 
But  this  conference  must  not  be  interrupted,  sir!" 

"Certainly  not,  Senator  Corson !" asserted  Stewart, 

with  a  decisive  snap  in  his  tone.     "We  have  a  great 

deal  of  ground  to  go  over." 

"I'll  allow  you  plenty  of  time — but  a  little  later, 

148 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

There  is  a  small  matter  to  be  set  straight.  Twill 
take  but  a  few  moments." 

"It's  undoubtedly  either  business  or  politics,  sir," 
declared  Lana,  with  a  fine  assumption  of  parliamen- 
tary dignity.  "But  I  have  the  floor  for  concerns  of 
my  own,  and  I'll  not  cede  any  of  my  time." 

"It  is  hardly  business  or  politics,"  returned  the 
Senator,  gravely.  "It  concerns  a  matter  of  courtesy 
between  guests  in  my  home,  and  I'm  anxious  to  have 
the  thing  straightened  out  at  once.  I  beg  of  you, 
Stewart!" 

The  mayor  rose  promptly. 

"I  suppose  I  must  consider  it  a  question  of 
privilege  and  yield,"  consented  Lana,  still  carrying 
on  her  little  play  of  procedure.  "But  do  I  have 
your  solemn  promise.  Senator  Corson,  that  this 
gentleman  will  be  returned  to  me  by  you  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment?" 

"I  promise." 

"And  I  want  your  promise  that  you  will  hurry 
back,"  sai(tthe  girl,  addressing  Stewart.  "I'll  wait 
right  here!" 

"  But,  Lana,  remember  your  duties  to  our  guests," 
protested  her  father. 

"I  have  been  fulfilling  them  ever  since  the  recep- 
tion-line was  formed."  She  waved  her  hand  to 
draw  their  attention  to  the  distant  music.  "The 
guests  are  having  a  gorgeous  time  all  by  themselves. 
I'll  be  waiting  here,"   she  warned.     "Remember, 

please,  both  of  you  that  I  am  waiting.     That  ought 

149 


All-Wool  Morrison 

to  hurry  your  settlement  of  that  other  matter  you 
speak  of." 

"I'll  waste  no  time!"  Morrison  assured  her.  He 
marched  away  with  the  Senator. 

In  the  study  Corson  took  his  stand  between  his 
two  guests.  Daunt  was  bristling;  Morrison  dis- 
played no  emotion  of  any  sort. 

"Mr.  Daunt,  I  think  you'd  better  state  your  griev- 
ance, as  you  feel  it,  so  that  Mr.  Morrison  can  assure 
both  of  us  that  it  arises  from  a  misunderstanding." 

The  banker  took  advantage  of  that  opportunity 
with  great  alacrity.  "Now  that  Senator  Corson  is 
present — now  that  we  have  a  broad-minded  referee, 
Mr.  Morrison,  I  propose  to  go  over  that  matter  of 
business." 

"Exactly  on  the  same  lines?"  inquired  Stewart, 
mildly. 

"Exactly!  And  for  obvious  reasons — so  that 
Corson  may  understand  just  how  much  your  attitude 
hurt  my  feelings." 

"Pardon  me,  Mr.  Daunt.  I  have  no  time  to 
listen  to  the  repetition.  It  will  gain  you  nothing 
from  me.  My  mind  remains  the  same.  And  Miss 
Corson  is  waiting  for  me.  I  have  promised  to  return 
to  her  as  soon  as  possible." 

"But  it  will  take  only  a  little  while  to  go  over  the 
matter,"  pleaded  Corson. 

"It  will  be  time  wasted  on  a  repetition,  sir.  I 
have  no  right  to  keep  Miss  Corson  waiting,  on  such 
an  excuse." 

ISO 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

"You  give  me  an  almighty  poor  excuse  for  un- 
mannerly treatment  of  my  business,  Morrison," 
Daunt  stated,  with  increasing  ire. 

"I  really  must  agree  in  that,"  chided  the  Senator. 

"Sir,  you  gave  your  daughter  the  same  promise 
for  yourself,"  declared  Stewart. 

"Now  let's  not  be  silly,  Stewart.  Lana  was 
playing!  You  can  go  right  on  with  her  from  where 
you  left  off." 

"Perhaps!"  admitted  the  mayor.  "I  hope  so,  at 
any  rate.  But  I  don't  propose  to  break  my  promise." 
He  added  in  his  own  mind  that  he  did  not  intend  to 
allow  a  certain  topic  between  him  and  Lana  Corson 
to  get  cold  while  he  was  being  bullyragged  by  two 
elderly  gentlemen  in  that  study. 

"By  the  gods!  you'll  have  to  talk  turkey  to  me  on 
one  point!"  asserted  Daunt,  his  veneer  of  dignity 
cracking  wide  and  showing  the  coarser  grain  of  his 
nature.  "I  made  you  a  square  business  proposition 
and  you  insulted  me — under  the  roof  of  a  gentleman 
who  had  vouched  for  both  of  us." 

"Thank  you !  Now  we  are  not  retracing  our  steps, 
as  you  threatened  to  do.  We  go  on  from  where  we 
left  off.  Therefore,  I  can  give  you  a  few  moments, 
sir.     What  insult  did  I  offer  you?" 

"You  told  me  that  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
myself." 

"That  was  not  an  insult,  Mr.  Daunt.  I  intended 
it  to  be  merely  a  frank  expression  of  opinion.  Just 
a  moment,  please!"  he  urged,  breaking  in  on  violent 
11  isi 


All-Wool  Morrison 

language.  He  brought  his  thumb  and  forefinger 
together  to  make  a  circle  and  poised  his  hand  over 
his  head.  "I  don't  wear  one  of  these.  I  have  no 
right  to  wear  one.  Halo,  I  mean!  Fm  no  prig  or 
preacher — at  least,  I  don't  mean  to  be.  But  when 
I  talk  business  I  intend  to  talk  it  straight  and  use 
few  words — and  those  words  may  sound  rather 
blunt,  sometimes.     Just  a  moment,  I  say!'* 

He  leaned  over  the  table  and  struck  a  resounding 
blow  on  it  with  his  knuckles.  "This  is  a  nutshell 
proposition  and  we'll  keep  it  in  small  compass. 
You  gave  me  a  layout  of  your  proposed  stock  issue. 
No  matter  what  has  been  done  by  the  best  of  big 
financiers,  no  matter  what  is  being  done  or  what  is 
proposed  to  be  done,  in  this  particular  case  your 
consolidation  means  that  you've  got  to  mulct  the 
people  to  pay  unreasonably  high  charges  on  stock. 
It  isn't  a  square  deal.  My  property  was  developed 
on  real  money.  I  know  what  it  pays  and  ought  to 
pay.  I  won't  put  it  into  a  scheme  that  will  oblige 
every  consumer  of  electricity  to  help  pay  dividends 
on  imaginary  'money.  And  if  you're  seriously  at- 
tempting to  put  over  any  consolidation  of  that  sort 
on  our  people,  Mr.  Daunt,  I  repeat  that  you  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

"And  now  you  have  heard  him  with  your  own 
ears,"  clamored  the  banker.  "What  do  you  say  to 
that,  Mr.  Corson?" 

"All  capitalization  entails   a  fair  compromise* — 

values  to  be  considered  in  the  light  of  new  develop- 

152 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

ment,"  said  the  Senator.  "Let's  discuss  the  propo- 
sition, Stewart." 

"Discussion  will  only  snarl  us  up.  I'm  stating 
the  principle.  You  can't  compromise  principle!  I 
refuse  to  discuss." 

"Have  you  gone  crazy  over  this  protection-of-the- 
people  idea?"  demanded  Q)rson,  with  heat. 

"Maybe  so!  I'm  not  sure.  I  may  be  a  little 
muddled.  But  I  see  a  principle  ahead  and  I'm 
going  straight  at  it,  even  though  I  may  tread  on 
some  toes,  I  believe  that  the  opinion  doesn't  hold 
good,  any  longer,  as  a  matter  of  right,  that  because 
a  man  has  secured  a  franchise,  and  his  charter  per- 
mits him  to  build  a  dam  across  a  river  or  the  mouth 
of  a  lake,  he  is  thereby  entitled  to  all  the  power  and 
control  and  profit  he  can  get  from  that  river  or  lake 
without  return  in  direct  payment  on  that  power  to 
the  people  of  the  state.  We  know  it's  by  constitu- 
tional law  that  the  people  own  the  river  and  the  lake. 
I'm  putting  in  a  report  on  this  whole  matter  to  the 
incoming  legislature.  Senator  Corson." 

"Good  Heavens!  Morrison,  you're  not  advocating 
the  soviet  doctrine  that  the  state  can  break  existing 
contracts,  are  you?"  shouted  the  Senator. 

"I  take  the  stand  that  charters  do  not  grant  the 
right  for  operators  of  water-power  to  charge  any- 
thing their  greed  prompts  'em  to  charge  on  ballooned 
stock.  I  assert  that  charters  are  fractured  when 
operators  flagrantly  abuse  the  public  that  way! 
I'm   going  to   propose   a   legislative   bill   that   will 

IS3 


All-Wool  Morrison 

oblige  water-power  corporations  to  submit  in  public 
reports  cur  state  engineers'  figures  on  actual  honest 
profit-earning  valuation;  to  publish  complete  lists 
of  all  the  men  who  own  stock  so  that  we  may  know 
the  interests  and  the  persons  who  are  secretly  behind 
the  corporations." 

Corson  displayed  instant  perturbation. 

"Such  pubUcation  can  be  twisted  to  injure  honest 
investors.  It  can  ht  used  politically  by  a  man's 
enemies.  Stewart,  I  am  heavily  interested  finan- 
cially in  Daunt's  syndicate,  because  I  believe  in 
developing  our  grand  old  state.  I  bring  this  per- 
sonal matter  to  your  attention  so  that  you  may  see 
how  this  general  windmill-tilting  is  going  to  aflPect 
your  friends." 

"I'm  for  our  state,  too,  sir!  And  I'll  mention  a 
personal  matter  that's  close  to  me,  seeing  that  you 
have  broached  the  subject.  St.  Ronan's  mill  is 
responsible  for  more  than  two  hundred  good  homes 
in  the  city  of  Marion,  built,  owned,  and  occupied 
by  our  workers.  And  in  order  to  clean  up  a  million 
profit  for  myself,  I  don't  propose  to  go  into  a  syn- 
dicate that  may  decide  to  ship  power  out  of  this 
state  and  empty  those  homes." 

"You  are  leaping  at  insane  conclusions,"  roared 
Daunt.     He  shook  his  finger  under  Morrison's  nose. 

"I'll  admit  that  I  have  arrived  at  some  rather 
extreme  conclusions,  sir,"  admitted  Stewart,  putting 
his  threatened  nose  a  little  nearer  Daunt's  finger. 
"I  based  the  conclusions  on  your  own  statement  to 

154 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

me  that  you  proposed  to  make  my  syndicate  holdings 
more  valuable  by  a  legislative  measure  that  would 
permit  the  consolidation  to  take  over  poles  and  wires 
of  existing  companies  or  else  run  wires  into  commu- 
nities in  case  the  existing  companies  would  not  sell." 

"That's  only  the  basic  principle  of  business  com- 
petition for  the  good  of  the  consuming  public. 
Competition  is  the  demand,  the  right  of  the  people,'* 
declared  Daunt. 

"I'm  a  bit  skeptical — still  basing  my  opinion  on 
your  own  statements  as  to  common-stock  dividends 
— as  to  the  price  per  kilowatt  after  competitors  shall 
have  been  sandbagged  according  to  that  legislative 
measure,"  drawled  the  mayor.  He  turned  to  the 
Senator.  "You  see,  sir,  your  guest  and  myself  are 
still  a  good  ways  apart  in  our  business  ideas!" 

"We'll  drop  business — drop  it  right  where  it  is," 
said  the  Senator,  curtly.  "Mr.  Daunt  has  tried  to 
meet  you  more  than  half-way  in  business,  in  my 
house,  taking  my  indorsement  of  you.  When  I 
recommended  you  I  was  not  aware  that  you  had 
been  making  radical  speeches  to  a  down-town  mob. 
I  am  shocked  by  the  change  in  you,  Stewart.  Have 
you  any  explanation  to  give  me?" 

"I'm  afraid  it  would  take  too  long  to  go  over  it 
now  in  a  way  to  make  you  understand,  sir.  I 
don't  want  to  spoil  my  case  by  leaving  you  half  vK- 
formed.  Mr.  Daunt  and  I  have  reached  an  under- 
standing. Pardon  me,  but  I  insist  that  I  must  keep 
my  promise  to  Miss  Corson." 


All-Wool  Morrison 

The  father  did  not  welcome  that  announcement. 
"I  trust  that  the  understanding  you  mention  in- 
cludes the  obligation  to  forget  all  that  Mr.  Daunt 
has  said  under  my  roof  this  evening.** 

"I  have  never  betrayed  confidences  in  my  per- 
sonal relations  with  any  man,  Senator  Corson," 
returned  Morrison. 

"Then  your  honor  naturally  suggests  your  course 
in  this  peculiar  situation." 

"Let's  not  stop  to  split  hairs  of  honor!  What 
do  you  expect  me  to  do?'*  demanded  Morrison, 
bruskly  business-like. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  expect,**  volunteered  Daunt. 
"You  have  possession  of  facts — " 

"I  did  not  solicit  them,  sir.  I  was  practically 
forced  into  an  interview  with  you  when  I  much 
rather  would  have  been  enjoying  myself  in  the 
ballroom." 

"Nevertheless,  you  have  the  facts.  Under  the 
circumstances  you  have  no  right  to  them.  I  expect 
you  to  show  a  gentleman's  consideration  and  keep 
carefully  away  from  my  affairs." 

"I,  also,  must  ask  that  much,  as  your  mutual 
host,"  put  in  Corson. 

"Gentlemen,"  declared  Stewart,  setting  back  his 
shoulders,  "by  allowing  myself  to  stretch  what  you 
term  *  honor'  to  that  fine  point  I  would  be  held  up 
in  a  campaign  I  have  started — prevented  from  going 
on  with  my  work,  simply  because  Mr.  Silas  Daunt 
is  among  the  men  I'm  fighting.     I'm  exactly  where 

iS6 


Making  It  a  Square  Break 

I  was  before  Mr.  Daunt  talked  to  me.  I  propose  to 
lick  a  water-power  monopoly  in  this  state  if  it's  in 
my  humble  power  to  do  it.  If  you  stay  in  that 
crowd,  Mr.  Daunt,  you've  got  to  take  your  chances 
along  with  the  rest  of  'em." 

"Stewart,  your  position  is  outrageous,"  blazed 
Corson.  "You're  not  only  throwing  away  a  won- 
derful business  opportunity  on  Hnes  wholly  approved 
by  general  usage — simply  to  indulge  an  impractical 
whim  for  which  you'll  get  no  thanks — taking  a  non- 
sensical stand  for  a  mere  dream  in  the  way  of  public 
ownership — but  you're  insulting  me,  myself,  by  the 
inference  that  may  be  drawn." 

"I  don't  understand,  sir." 

"Well,  then,  understand!"  said  the  Senator,  car- 
ried far  by  his  indignation.  "You  know  how  I 
made  my  fortune!" 

"I  do!" 

"Was  I  not  justified  in  buying  in  all  the  public 
timber-lands  at  the  going  price  ? " 

"Yes,  seeing  that  the  people  of  the  state  were 
fools  enough  to  stay  asleep  and  let  lands  go  for  a 
dollar  or  so  an  acre — lands  to-day  worth  thousands 
of  dollars  an  acre  for  the  timber  on  'em!" 

"I  paid  the  price  that  was  asked.  That's  as  far 
as  a  business  man  is  expected  to  go." 

"Certainly,  Senator.     I'm  glad  for  you.     But,  I 

repeat,  the  people  were  asleep!    Now  I'm  going  to 

wake  'em  up  to  guard  their  last  great  heritage — 

the  water-power  that  they  still  own!     I'll  keep  'em 

IS7  • 


All-Wool  Morrison 

awake,  if  I've  got  strength  enough  in  this  arm  to 
keep  on  drumming  and  breath  enough  to  keep  the 
old  trumpet  sounding!" 

"The  corporations  in  this  state  are  organized, 
they  will  protect  their  charters,  they  will  make  you 
let  go  of  your  wild  scheme,"  bellowed  the  banker. 
"By  the  jumped-up  Jehoshaphat,  they  will  make  you 
let  go,  Morrison!     By  the  great — " 

"Hush!"  pleaded  their  host.  "They  can  hear 
outside.     No  profanity!" 

Stewart  had  started  toward  the  door;  he  paused 
for  a  moment  when  he  had  his  hand  on  the  knob. 
"We  will  not  let  go!"  he  said,  calmly.  "We  won't 
let  go — and  this  is  not  profanity,  Senator  Corson — 
we  won't  let  go  of  as  much  as  one  dam-site!'* 


A  SENATOR  SIZES   UP  A  FOE 

A  FTER  Stewart  had  closed  the  door  behind  him- 
^^^  self  Senator  Corson  rose  hastily.  For  a  few 
moments  he  surveyed  the  panels  of  the  oaken  portal 
with  the  intentness  of  one  who  was  studying  a 
problem  on  a  printed  page.  Then,  plainly,  his 
thoughts  went  traveling  beyond  the  closed  door. 
But  he  appeared  to  be  receiving  no  satisfaction  from 
his  scrutiny  or  from  his  thoughts.  He  scowled  and 
muttered. 

He  stared  into  the  palms  of  his  soiled  gloves;  the 
suggestion  they  offered  did  not  improve  his  temper. 
He  ripped  them  from  his  hands.  "What  the  mis- 
chief ails  'em,  down  here.?  They're  all  more  or  less 
slippery.  Daunt!  I've  been  sensing  it  all  the 
evening!     I  feel  as  if  I'd  been  handling  eels.'* 

Banker  Daunt  was  calming  himself  by  a  patrol  of 
the  room. 

"I  can  view  matters  like  a  statesman  when  I'm 

in  the  Senate  Chamber,"  Corson  asserted,  "but  down 

here  at  home  these  days  I  can't  see  the  forest  on 

account  of  the  trees!    I  don't  know  what  tree  to 

IS9 


All-Wool  Morrison 

climb  first,  Daunt,  I  swear  I  don't!  What  with 
North  getting  the  party  into  this  scrape  it's  in,  and 
playing  his  sharp  politics,  and  this  power  question 
fight  and — and — " 

He  gazed  at  the  door  again.  It  now  suggested  a 
definite  course  of  procedure,  apparently.  He  crum- 
pled his  gloves  into  a  ball  and  threw  them  on  the 
table.  There  was  a  hint  in  that  action;  the  Senator 
was  showing  his  determination  to  handle  matters 
without  gloves  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  "There's 
one  thing  about  it.  Daunt,  a  man  can't  do  his  best 
in  public  concerns  till  he  has  freed  his  mind  of  his 
private  troubles.  You  wait  here.  I'll  be  right 
back." 

"Where  are  you  going.  Senator.?" 

"I'm  going  to  regain  my  self-respect!  I'm  going 
to  assert  myself  as  master  of  my  own  home.  I'm 
going  to  tell  Stewart  Morrison  that  I  have  business 
with  him,  and  that  I'll  attend  to  it  in  a  strictly 
business  ofiice,  later,  where  he  can't  insult  my 
friends  and  abuse  my  hospitality!" 

"Wait  a  minute!  I've  had  an  acute  attack  of  it, 
too,  this  evening — ^the  same  ailment,  but  I'm  getting 
over  it.  Don't  lose  your  head  and  your  temper, 
both  at  the  same  time.  You're  not  in  the  right  trim 
just  now  to  go  against  that  bullhead.  Let's  estimate 
him  squarely.  That's  always  my  plan  in  business." 
Mr.  Daunt  plucked  a  cigar  from  a  box  on  the  table 
and  lighted  up  leisurely,  soothing  himself  into  a 
matter-of-fact   mood.     Corson   waited   with   impa- 

i6o 


A  Senator  Sizes  Up  a  Foe 

tience,  but  his  politician's  caution  began  to  tug  on 
the  bits,  moderating  the  rush  of  his  passion,  and  he 
took  a  cigar  for  himself. 

"Outside  of  this  petty  mayor  business,  does  Mor- 
rison cut  any  figure — have  any  special  power  in 
state  politics?"  the  banker  asked. 

"Not  a  particle — not  as  a  politician.  He  doesn't 
know  the  A  B  C's  of  the  game." 

"How  much  influence  can  he  wield  as  an  agitator, 
as  he  threatens  to  become?" 

Corson's  declaration  was  less  emphatic  "We're 
conservative,  the  mass  of  us,  in  these  parts.  Starting 
trouble  isn't  wielding  influence,  Daunt.  He'll  be 
going  up  against  the  political  machine  that  has 
always  handled  this  state  safely  and  sanely — and 
we  know  what  to  do  with  trouble-makers.'* 

"This  communistic  stand  of  his  certainly  dis- 
credits him  with  the  corporations,  also.  Despeaux 
has  been  doing  good  work,  and  practically  all  of 
'em  have  come  over  to  the  Consolidated  camp.  Of 
course,  Morrison  is  antagonizing  the  banking  in- 
terests, too.     Is  he  a  heavy  borrower?" 

"He  doesn't  borrow.  He  works  on  his  own 
capital.  St.  Ronan's  is  free  and  clear,"  admitted 
the  Senator,  crossly. 

"That's  too  bad!  Calling  loans  is  always  effec- 
tive in  improving  a  radical's  opinions.  Then  this 
friend,  whom  you  have  held  up  to  me  as  so  important 
in  our  plans — " 

"I   did   consider  him   important.   Daunt!     I   do 

i6i 


All-Wool  Morrison 

now.  I  know  him.  I  have  seen  him  go  after  things, 
ever  since  he  was  a  boy.  That  storage-commission 
scheme  is  his  own  device  and,  as  the  head  of  it,  he 
occupies  a  strategic  position." 

"But  it's  only  a  scheme;  he  has  no  actual  organiza- 
tion of  the  people  behind  it." 

"Confound  it!  I'm  afraid  he  will  have!" 

"It's  an  impractical  dream — trying  to  establish 
such  shadowy  ownership  of  what  vested  capital 
under  private  control  must  naturally  possess  and 
develop.     We  have  sound  business  on  our  side." 

"It  may  not  seem  so  much  like  a  dream  after  he 
puts  that  report  into  the  legislature,"  complained 
the  Senator.  "I  tell  you,  I  know  Stewart  Morrison. 
He  indulges  in  visions,  but  he'll  back  this  particular 
one  up  with  so  many  facts  and  figures  that  it  will 
make  a  treasury  report  look  like  a  ghost-story  by 
comparison.  Talk  about  sound  business!  That's 
Morrison's  other  name!" 

"What's  going  to  be  done  with  that  report, 
Corson.?" 

The  Senator  hesitated  a  few  moments. 

"Understand  that  I'm  no  kin  of  old  Captain 
Teach,  the  buccaneer,  either  in  politics  or  business. 
Daunt.  But  I'm  not  fool  enough  to  believe  that 
the  millennium  has  arrived  in  this  world,  even  if  the 
battle  of  Armageddon  has  been  fought,  as  the  parsons 
are  preaching.  We  still  must  deal  with  human  con- 
ditions.    The  tree  is  full  of  good  ideas,  I'll  admit. 

But  we've  got  to  let  'em  ripen.     Eat  'em  now — 

162 


A  Senator  Sizes  Up  a  Foe 

and  it's  a  case  of  the  gripes  for  business  and  politics, 
both.  Therefore" — the  Senator  paused  and  squinted 
at  the  end  of  his  cigar.  "Well,  Daunt,  we'll  have  to 
apply  a  little  common  sense  to  conditions,  even 
though  the  opposition  may  squeal.  That  ownership 
of  the  water-power  by  the  people  isn't  ripe.  The 
legislative  committee  will  pocket  Morrison's  re- 
port, or  will  refer  the  thing  to  the  public  utilities 
commission." 

"Both  plans  meaning  the  same  thing?" 

"I  won't  put  it  as  coarsely  as  that.  It  only 
means  handling  the  situation  with  discretion.  Dis- 
cretion by  those  in  power  is  going  to  save  us  a  lot  of 
trouble  in  times  like  these." 

"You  are  sure  of  the  right  legislative  committee, 
are  you?" 

"Certainly!    North  is  on  the  job  up  at  the  State 

House.     I'll  admit  that  he  isn't  tactful.     He's  very 

old-fashioned  in  his  political  ideas.     But  he  doesn't 

mind  clamor  and  criticism,  and  he  isn't  afraid  of 

the  devil  himself.     Between  you  and  me,  I  think," 

continued  the  Senator,  judicially,  "that  North  is 

skating  pretty  near  the  edge  this  time.     I  would 

not  have  allowed  him  to  go  so  far  if  I  had  been  in 

better  touch  with  conditions  down  here.     But  it's 

too  late  to  modify  his  plans  much  at  this  hour.     He 

must  bull  the  thing  through  as  he's  going.     I  can 

undo  the  mischief  to  the  party  by  the  selection  of  a 

smooth  diplomat  for  the  gubernatorial  nomination 

next  year.     But  jumping  back  to  the  main  subject — 

163 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Stewart  Morrison!  Seeing  what  he  is,  in  the  water- 
power  matter,  I  hoped  I  could  smooth  things  by  your 
getting  next  to  him.  I'm  sorry  you  have  been  so 
much  annoyed,  Daunt!  He  may  make  it  uncom- 
fortable by  his  mouth,  but  he  cannot  control  any- 
thing by  direct  political  influence.  Absolutely  not!" 
The  Senator  was  recovering  his  confidence  in  himself 
as  a  leader;  he  started  up  from  his  chair  and  stamped 
down  an  emphatic  foot.  "He  is  a  nonentity  in  that 
direction.  Politics  will  handle  the  thing!  The 
legislature  will  be  all  right!  The  situation  on 
Capitol  Hill  is  safe.  However,  I  think  I'll  pass  a 
word  or  two  with  North!" 

He  went  to  the  wall  of  the  study,  slipped  aside  a 
small  panel,  and  lifted  out  a  telephone  instrument. 
"A  little  precaution  I've  held  over  from  the  old 
days,"  Corson  informed  his  guest,  with  a  smile.  "A 
private  line  to  the  Executive  Chamber." 

From  where  he  sat  Daunt  could  hear  the  Gover- 
nor's voice.  The  tones  rasped  and  rattled  and  jan- 
gled in  the  receiver,  which,  for  the  sake  of  his  ear- 
drum. Senator  Corson  held  away  from  his  head. 
The  puckers  on  his  countenance  indicated  that  he 
was  annoyed,  both  by  the  news  and  by  the  dis- 
cordant violence  of  its  delivery. 

"But  it's  not  as  threatening  as  all  that!  It  can't 
be!"  the  listener  kept  insisting. 

"Well,  I'll  come  up,"  he  promised,  at  last.  "I'll 
come,  but  I  think  you're  over-anxious,  North!" 

There  was  a  sound  as  if  somebody  were  banging 

164 


A  Senator  Sizes  Up  a  Foe 

on  a  tin  pan  at  the  other  end  of  the  line;  His  Excel- 
lency had  merely  put  more  vigor  into  his  voice. 

"I  think — I'm  quite  sure  that  he's  still  here — in 
my  house,"  Corson  replied.  "Yes — yes — I  certainly 
will!"     He  hung  up. 

"You  seemed  to  think,  Daunt,  that  I  didn't  have 
a  good  and  a  sufficient  reason  for  saying  a  few  words 
to  Morrison  when  I  started  to  hunt  him  up  a  few 
minutes  ago.  However,  this  time  you'll  have  to 
excuse  me.     I'm  going  to  him." 

"But  you're  not  intending  to  make  him  of  any 
especial  importance  in  affairs,  are  you?  You  said 
he  could  be  ignored." 

"Yes!  But  I  don't  propose  to  ignore  his  efforts 
to  stir  up  the  mob  spirit  in  a  city  of  which  he  hap- 
pens to  be  mayor.  He  has  been  up  to  that  mis- 
chief! I  have  heard  straight  reports  from  vari- 
ous sources  this  evening.  The  Governor  has  been 
posted  and  he  is  very  emphatic  on  the  point." 
Corson  rubbed  the  ear  that  was  still  reminding  him 
of  that  emphasis. 

"That's  the  trouble  with  men  like  Morrison,  when 
they  begin  to  talk  people's  rights  these  days,  Senator! 
They  go  up  in  the  air  and  jump  all  the  way  over 
into  Bolshevism.  I'm  sorry  now  because  I  counseled 
you  to  smooth  your  temper.  Go  at  him.  I'll  sit 
here  and  finish  my  smoke." 

At  the  head  of  the  broad  staircase  Senator  Corson 

came  upon  Mrs.  Stanton  and  Coventry  Daunt. 

They  wore  expressions  of  bewilderment  that  would 

i6s 


All-Wool  Morrison 

have  fitted  the  countenances  of  explorers  who  had 
missed  their  quest  and  had  lost  their  reckoning. 

Mrs.  Stanton  put  out  her  fan,  and  the  striding 
father  halted  at  the  polite  barrier  with  a  greeting, 
but  evinced  anxiety  to  be  on  the  way. 

"I'm  so  glad  to  see  you.  Senator  Corson!"  This 
with  delight.  "But  isn't  Lana  with  you?"  this 
with  anxiety.     "I  mean,  hasn't  she  been  with  you?" 

"My  dance  contracts  with  Miss  Corson  have  been 
shot  quite  all  to  pieces,"  said  Coventry. 

"I  have  searched  everywhere  for  her — I  think  I 
have,"  supplemented  the  sister.  "But  we  guessed 
she  must  be  with  you,  and  we  didn't  venture  to 
intrude." 

"And  you  are  sure  she  is  not  in  the  ballroom?" 

"Absolutely!"  Young  Mr.  Daunt  plainly  knew 
what  he  was  talking  about. 

"Coventry,  if  you  and  Mrs.  Stanton  will  go  there 
and  wait  a  few  moments,  I  am  positive  that  Lana 
will  come  to  you  very  promptly!" 

Senator  Corson  also  seemed  to  know  what  he  was 
talking  about! 


XI 

'      FLARE  BACKS  IN  THE  CASE  OF  LOVE  AND  A  MOB 

AGAIN  was  Stewart  a  close  listener,  his  chin 
■**^  resting  on  his  knuckles,  his  serious  eyes  searching 
Lana's  face  while  she  talked. 

A  cozy  harbor  was  afforded  by  the  bay  of  the  great 
window  in  the  library.  When  Stewart  had  returned 
to  the  girl  he  noticed  that  she  had  provided  the 
harbor  with  a  breakwater — a  tall  Japanese  screen; 
waiting  there  she  had  found  the  room  draughty,  she 
informed  him. 

He  was  placid  when  he  returned.  His  demeanor 
was  so  untroubled  and  his  air  so  eagerly  invited  her 
to  go  on  from  where  she  had  left  off  that  she  did  not 
bother  her  mind  about  the  errand  which  had  called 
him  away. 

"I'm  really  glad  because  we  adjourned  the  execu- 
tive session  for  a  recess,"  she  confided.  "I've  had 
a  chance  to  think  over  what  I  was  saying  to  you, 
Stewart.  While  I  talked  I  found  myself  getting  a 
bit  hysterical.  I  realized  that  I  was  presumptuous, 
but  I  couldn't  seem  to  stop.  But  I  have  been  going 
over  it  in  my  mind  and  I'm  glad^now  that  my  feelings 
12  167 


All-Wool  Morrison 

did  carry  me  away.  Fnendship  has  a  right  to  be 
impetuous  on  some  occasions.  I  never  tried  to  ad- 
vise you  in  the  old  days.  You  wouldn't  have  lis- 
tened, anyway." 

^Tve  always  been  glad  to  listen  to  you,"  he 
corrected. 

"But  it  makes  a  friend  so  provoked  to  have  one 
listen  and  then  go  ahead  and  do  just  as  one  likes. 
I  want  to  ask  you — while  you  have  been  away  from 
me  have  you  been  reflecting  on  what  I  said?" 

He  stammered  a  bit,  and  there  was  not  absolute 
candor  in  his  eyes.  "To  tell  the  truth,  Lana,  I  al- 
lowed myself  to  be  taken  up  considerably  with  other 
matters.  But  I  did  remember  my  promise  to  hurry 
back  to  you,  just  the  minute  I  could  break  away,'* 
he  added,  apologetically. 

"I'm  a  little  disappointed  in  you,  just  the  same, 
Stewart!  I've  been  hoping  that  you  were  putting 
your  mind  on  what  I  said  to  you.  I  was  hoping 
that  when  you  came  back — " 

"Well,  go  on,  Lana!"  he  prompted,  gently,  when 
she  paused. 

"It's  so  hard  for  me  to  say  it  so  it  will  sound  as  I 
mean  it,"  she  lamented.  "To  make  my  interest 
appear  exactly  what  it  is.  To  find  the  words  to  fit 
my  thoughts  just  now!  I  know  what  they're  saying 
about  me  these  days  in  Marion.  I  know  our  folks 
so  well!  I  don't  need  to  hear  the  words;  I  have 
been  studying  their  faces  this  evening.  You,  also, 
know  what  they're  saying,  Stewart!" 

i68 


Flarebacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

He  confined  his  assent  to  a  significant  nod;  Jeanie 
Mac  Dougal's  few  words  on  the  subject  had  been,  for 
him,  a  comprehensive  summary  of  the  general  gossip. 

"When  I  was  speechifying  to  you  in  St.  Ronan's 
office  you  thought  I  had  come  back  here  filled  with 
airs  and  lofty  notions.     I  knew  how  you  felt!" 

He  shook  his  head  and  allowed  the  extent  of  his 
negation  to  be  limited  to  that!  "I'll  tell  you  how 
I  felt — some  time — but  now  I'll  listen  to  you." 

"I  was  putting  all  that  on  for  show,  Stewart!  I 
felt  so — so — I  don't  know!  Embarrassed,  perhaps! 
And  I  felt  that  you — "  her  color  deepened  then  in 
true  embarrassment.  "And — and — they  were  all 
there!"     It  was  naive  confession,  and  he  smiled. 

"So  I  said  to  my  wee  mither,  Lana,  by  way  of 
setting  her  right  as  to  meddlesome  tongues." 

"I  am  sincere  and  honest  still,  Stewart,  where  my 
real  friends  are  concerned.  I've  just  complained 
because  I  can't  find  words  to  express  my  thoughts 
to  you.  Well,  I  never  was  at  a  loss  when  we  were 
boy  and  girl  together."  She  paused  and  they  heard 
the  sound  of  music. 

"There's  a  frilly  style  of  talk  that  belongs  with 
that — down  there,"  she  went  on.  There  was  a 
hint  of  contempt  in  her  gesture.  "But  you  and  I 
used  to  get  along  better — or  worse — with  plain 
speech."  The  flash  of  a  smile  of  her  own  softened 
her  moue. 

"I  make  it  serve  me  well  in  my  affairs,'*  agreed 
Morrison. 

169 


All-Wool  Morrison 

*'Do  you  think  I'm  airy  and  notional  and  stuck 
up?" 

"No!" 

"Do  you  think  I'm  posing  as  a  Know-it-all  because 
I  have  been  about  in  the  world  and  have  seen  and 
heard?" 

"No!" 

"  But  you  do  think  I'm  broader  and  wiser  and  more 
open-minded  and  have  better  judgment  on  matters 
in  general  than  I  had  when  I  was  penned  up  here  in 
Marion,  don't  you  ? " 

"Yes!" 

"Stewart,  you're  not  helping  me  much,  staring  at 
me  and  popping  those  noes  and  yesses  at  me!  You 
make  me  feel  like — but,  honestly,  I'm  not!  I  don't 
intend  to  seem  like  that!" 

"Eh?" 

"Why,  like  an  opinionated  lecturer,  laying  down 
the  law  of  conduct  to  you!  I  don't  mean  to  do  all 
the  talking." 

"You'd  better,  Lana — for  the  present,"  he  advised, 
seriously.  "If  you  have  something  to  say  to  me, 
take  care  and  not  let  me  get  started  on  what  I  want 
to  say  to  you." 

She  flushed.  She  drew  away  from  him  slightly. 
In  her  apprehensiveness  she  hurried  on  for  her  own 
protection.  "I  hoped  you  were  coming  back  just 
now,  Stewart,  and  put  out  your  hand  to  me  as  your 
friend,  a  good  pal  who  had  given  sensible  advice,  and 

say  to  me,  'Lana,  you  have  used  your  wits  to  good 

170 


Flarebacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

advantage  while  you  have  been  out  and  about  in 
the  world,  and  your  suggestions  to  me  are  all  right.* 
Aren't  you  going  to  say  so,  Stewart?'* 

**As  I  understand  it,  putting  all  you  said  to  me 
awhile  back  in  that  plain  language  we  have  agreed 
on,  you  tell  me  that  I'm  missing  my  opportunities, 
have  gone  to  sleep  down  here  in  Marion,  am  allowing 
myself  to  be  everlastingly  tied  up  by  petty  business 
details  that  keep  me  away  from  real  enjoyment  of  a 
bigger  and  better  life,  and  that  there's  not  the  least 
need  of  my  spending  my  best  years  in  that  fashion.** 

"You  state  it  bluntly,  but  that  is  the  gist  of  it!'* 

"Yes,  I  was  blunt.  I'm  going  to  be  even  more 
blunt!  What  do  I  get  out  of  this  prospective, 
bigger  life,  Lana?**  He  drew  a  deep  breath.  "Do 
I  get — you?'* 

"Stewart,  hush!  Wait!*'  He  had  spread  his 
hands  to  her  appealingly.  "I  am  talking  to  you  as 
your  friend — I'm  talking  of  your  business,  your 
outlook.     I  must  say  something  further  to  you!** 

He  set  as  firm  a  grip  on  his  emotions  as  he  had  on 
his  anger  earlier  in  the  evening  when  Krylovensky*s 
hand  had  dealt  him  a  blow.  Her  demeanor  had 
thrust  him  away  effectually.  The  fire  died  in  his 
eyes.  "Go  on,  Lana!  I  have  promised  to  allow 
you  to  have  your  say.  And,  once  I  start,  only  a 
*Yes!'  can  stop  me." 

She  displayed  additional  apprehension  and  plunged 

into    a    strictly    commercial   topic   with    desperate 

directness.     "I'm  positive  that  you  have  no  further 

171 


All-Wool  Morrison 

need  of  making  yourself  a  slave  to  details  of  business. 
I  know  that  you  can  be  free  to  devote  yourself  to 
the  higher  things  that  are  worthy  of  your  real  self 
and  your  talents,  Stewart.  Father  says  that  through 
Mr.  Daunt  there  will  come  to  you  the  grandest 
opportunity  of  your  life.  I  suppose  that's  what  Mr. 
Daunt  explained  to  you  when  you  were  with  him 
this  evening.  Even  though  you  may  not  consider 
me  wise  in  men's  business  affairs,  Stewart,  you  must 
admit  that  my  father  and  Mr.  Daunt  know.  You 
haven't  any  silly  notions,  have  you.?  You're  ready 
to  seize  every  opportunity  to  make  a  grand  suc- 
cess in  business,  the  way  the  great  men  do,  aren't 

you?" 

There  was  a  very  different  light  in  Morrison's 
eyes  than  had  flamed  in  them  a  few  moments  before. 
He  stared  at  her  appraisingly,  wonderingly.  His 
demanding  survey  of  her  was  disconcerting,  but  his 
somberness  was  that  of  disappointment  rather  than 
of  any  distrust. 

"Has  your  father  asked  you  to  talk  to  me  on  the 
subject  of  that  business?" 

She  did  not  reply  promptly.  But  his  challenge 
was  too  direct. 

"I  confess  that  father  did  intimate  that  there'd 
be  no  need  of  mentioning  him  in  the  matter." 

"He  asked  you  to  talk  to  me,  then?" 

"Yes,  Stewart!" 

"And  I  thought  you  were  talking  only  for  yourself 

when  you  begged  me  to  step  up  into  that  broader 

172 


Flarehacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

life!"  His  voice  trembled.  She  did  not  appear  to 
understand  his  emotion. 

"But  I  am  talking  for  myself,"  protested  the  girl. 

"You're  talking  only  your  father's  views,  his  plans, 
his  ambition,  his  scheme  of  life — ^talking  Daunt's 
project  for  his  own  selfish  ends!" 

"I  don't  understand!" 

"I  hope  you  don't!  For  the  sake  of  my  love  for 
you,  I  hope  so ! "  He  was  striving  to  control  himself. 
"In  the  name  of  what  we  have  been  to  each  other  in 
days  past,  I  hope  you  are  not  their — that  you  don't 
realize  they  are  making  you  a —  But  I  can't  say  it ! 
I  want  proof  from  you  now  by  word  o'  mouth!  I 
don't  want  any  more  prattle  of  business!  I  want 
you  to  show  me  that  you  are  talking  for  yourself. 
Lana  Corson,  say  to  me  some  word  from  your  own 
heart — something  for  me  alone — something  from  old 
times — to  prove  that  you  are  what  I  want  you  to  be! 
I  love  you.  You  are  mine!  I  don't  believe  their 
gossip.  I  have  never  given  you  up.  I've  been 
waiting  patiently  for  you  to  come  back  to  me.  Can't 
you  go  back  to  the  old  times — and  speak  from  your 
own  soul?" 

The  intensity  of  his  appeal  carried  her  along  in  the 
rush  of  his  emotion.  "  Stewart,  I  have  been  speaking 
for  myself,  as  best  I  knew  how!  I'm  back  to  the  old 
times!  If  you  need  further  words  from  me,  you 
shall  have  them." 

Senator  Corson  stepped  around  the  end  of  the 
screen.     "You  will  postpone  any  further  words  to 

173 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Mr.  Morrison!  I  have  some  words  of  my  own  for 
him!  Lana,  Coventry  Daunt  is  waiting  for  you  in 
the  ballroom  and  I  have  told  him  that  you  will  be 
there  at  once." 

"Mr.  Daunt  must  continue  to  wait,  father.  I 
have  something  to  tell  Stewart,  and  you  must  allow 
me  to  say  it — say  it  to  him,  alone." 

"You  shall  never  speak  another  word  to  him  on 
any  subject  with  my  permission.  I  have  been 
listening  and — " 

"Father,  do  you  confess  that  you  have  been 
eavesdropping  ? " 

"My  present  code  of  manners  is  perfectly  suited 
to  the  tactics  of  this  fellow  who  has  flouted  me  and 
insulted  an  honored  guest  under  my  roof  this  evening. 
Morrison,  leave  the  house!" 

"He  shall  stay  at  the  request  of  his  hostess,"  de- 
clared the  girl,  defiantly. 

"On  with  you  to  your  guests — that's  where  your 
hostess  duties  are!"  Corson  reached  to  take  her 
arm. 

Stewart  hastily  raised  Lana's  hand  and  bent  over 
it.  "I  am  indebted  to  you  for  a  charming  evening." 
He  stood  erect  and  his  demeanor  of  manly  sincerity 
removed  every  suggestion  of  sarcasm  from  the  con- 
ventional phrase  he  had  spoken  quietly.  "The 
charm.  Senator  Corson,  has  outweighed  all  the 
unpleasantness." 

When   he  turned  to   retire   Corson   halted   him 

with  a  curt  word. 

174 


Flarehacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

"Lana,  I  command  you  to  go  and  join  your 
partner." 

But  Miss  Corson  persisted  in  her  rebelliousness. 
She  did  not  relish  the  ominous  threat  that  she  per- 
ceived in  the  situation.  "I  shall  stay  with  you  till 
you're  in  a  better  state  of  temper,  father." 

"You'll  hear  nothing  to  this  man's  credit  if  you 
do  stay,"  said  the  Senator,  acridly.  "I  have  just 
talked  on  the  'phone  with  the  Governor,  Mayor 
Morrison,  He  asked  me  to  notify  you  that  your 
mob  which  you  have  stirred  up  in  your  own  city, 
by  your  devilish  speeches  this  evening,  is  evidently 
on  the  war-path.  He  expects  you  to  undo  the 
mischief,  seeing  that  your  tongue  is  the  guilty 
party!" 

Lana  turned  startled  gaze  from  her  father  to 
Morrison;  amazement  struggled  with  her  indigna- 
tion. Her  amazement  was  deepened  by  the  mayor's 
mild  rejoinder. 

"Very  well.  Senator.  I  have  an  excellent  under- 
standing with  that  mob." 

"Making  speeches  to  a  mob!"  Lana  gasped.  "I'll 
not  allow  even  my  father  to  say  that  about  you, 
Stewart,  and  leave  it  undisputed." 

"Your  father  is  angry  just  now,  Lana!  Any 
discussion  will  provoke  further  unpleasantness!" 

"Confound  you!  Don't  you  dare  to  insult  me  by 
your  condescending  airs,"  thundered  Corson.  "You 
have  your  orders.  Go  and  mix  with  your  rabble 
and  continue  that  understanding  with  'em,  if  you 

175 


All-Wool  Morrison 

can  make  'em  understand  that  law  and  order  must 
prevail  in  this  city  to-night." 

The  library  was  in  a  wing  of  the  mansion,  far  from 
the  street,  and  the  three  persons  behind  the  screen 
had  been  entirely  absorbed  in  their  troubled  affairs. 
They  had  heard  none  of  the  sounds  from  the  street. 

Somebody  began  to  call  in  the  corridor  outside  the 
library.  The  voice  sounded  above  the  music  from 
the  ballroom,  and  quavered  with  anxious  entreaty 
as  it  demanded,  over  and  over:  "Senator  Corson! 
Where  are  you.  Senator  Corson?" 

"Here!"  replied  the  Senator. 

The  secretary  rushed  in.  "There's  a  mob  out- 
side, sir!    A  threatening  mob!" 

**  Ah !    Morrison,  your  friends  are  looking  you  up ! " 

"They  are  radicals — anarchists.  They  must  be!" 
panted  the  messenger.  "They  are  yelling:  *Down 
with  the  capitalists!  Down  with  the  aristocrats!' 
I  ordered  the  shades  pulled.  The  men  seemed  to  be 
excited  by  looking  in  through  the  windows  at  the 
dancers  in  the  ballroom!" 

"There'll  be  no  trouble.  I'll  answer  for  that," 
promised  the  Mayor,  marching  away. 

Before  he  reached  the  door  the  crash  of  splintered 
glass,  the  screams  of  women  and  shouts  of  men, 
drowned  the  music. 

Stewart  went  leaping  down  the  stairs.     When  he 

reached  the  ballroom  he  found  the  frightened  guests 

massed  against  the  wall,  as  far  from  the  windows  as 

they  could  crowd.     A  wild  battle  of  some  sort  was 

176 


Flarebacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

going  on  outside  in  the  night,  so  oaths  and  cries  and 
the  grim  thudding  of  battering  fists  revealed. 

Before  Stewart  could  reach  a  window — one  of 
those  from  which  the  glass  had  been  broken — Com- 
mander Lanigan  came  through  the  aperture  with  a 
rush,  skating  to  a  standstill  along  the  polished  floor. 
Blood  was  on  his  hands.  His  sleeves  hung  in  rib- 
bons. In  that  scene  of  suspended  gaiety  he  was  a 
particularly  grisly  interloper. 

"They  sneaked  it  over  on  us,  Mister  Mayor!"  he 
yelled.  "I  got  a  tip  and  routed  out  the  Legion 
boys  and  chased  *em,  but  the  dirty  Bullshevists 
beat  us  to  it  up  the  hill.     But  we've  got  *em  licked!" 

"  Keep  'em  licked  for  the  rest  of  the  night,"  Mor- 
rison suggested.  "I'll  be  down-town  with  you, 
right  away!" 

But  Lanigan,  in  his  raging  excitement,  was  not 
amenable  to  hints  or  orders,  nor  was  he  cautious  in 
his  revelations.  "We  can  handle  things  down-town, 
Your  Honor!  What  we  want  to  know  is,  what  about 
up-town — up  on  Capitol  Hill.''" 

"You've  had  my  promise  of  what  I'll  do.  And 
I'll  do  it!" 

Senator  Corson  and  his  daughter  had  arrived  in 
the  ballroom.  The  Senator  was  promptly  and 
intensely  interested  in  this  cocksure  declaration  by 
Morrison. 

"Your  promise  is  the  same  as  hard  cash  for  me 
and   the   level-headed  ones,"  retorted  Commander 

Lanigan.     "But  whether  it's  the  Northern  Lights  in 

177 


All-Wdol  Morrison 

the  skies  or  plain  hellishness  in  folks  or  somebody 
underneath  stirring  and  stirring  trouble  and  starting 
lies,  I  don't  know!  Lots  of  good  boys  have  stopped 
being  level-headed!  I'll  hold  the  gang  down  if  I 
can,  sir.  But  what  I  want  to  know  is,  can  we  depend 
on  you  to  tend  to  Capitol  Hill?  Are  you  still  on  the 
job?     Can  I  tell  'em  that  you're  still  on  the  job?" 

"You  can  tell  'em  all  that  I'm  on  the  job  from 
now  till  morning,"  shouted  the  mayor.  He  was 
heard  by  the  men  outside.  They  gave  his  declara- 
tion a  howl  of  approval. 

"The  people  will  be  protected,"  shouted  an 
unseen  admirer. 

Stewart  hurried  to  Senator  Corson  and  was  not 
daunted  by  that  gentleman's  blazing  countenance. 

"I'm  sorry,  sir.  This  seems  to  be  a  flareback  of 
some  sort.     I'll  have  police  on  guard  at  once!" 

"You'll  protect  the  people,  eh?  There's  a  flat- 
terer in  your  mob,  Morrison!  You  can't  even  give 
window-glass  in  this  city  suitable  protection — a 
mayor  like  you!  I'll  have  none  of  your  soviet 
police  around  my  premises."  He  turned  to  his 
secretary.  "Call  the  adjutant-general  at  the  State 
House  and  tell  him  to  send  a  detachment  of  troops 
here." 

"I  trust  they'll  co-operate  well  with  the  police  I 
shall  send,"  stated  the  Mayor,  stiffly.  He  hastened 
from  the  room. 

When  Stewart  had  donned  hat  and  overcoat  and 

was  about  to  leave  the  mansion  by  the  main  door, 

178 


Flarebacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

Lana  stepped  in  front  of  him.  "Stewart,  you  must 
stop  for  a  moment — you  must  deny  it,  what  father 
has  been  saying  to  me  about  you  just  now!" 

"Your  father  is  angry — and  in  anger  a  man  says 
a  whole  lot  that  he  doesn't  mean.  I'm  in  a  hurry — 
and  a  man  in  a  hurry  spoils  anything  he  tries  to  tell. 
We  must  let  it  wait,  Lana." 

"But  if  you  go  on — go  on  as  you're  going — 
crushing  Mr.  Daunt's  plans — spoiling  your  own 
grand  prospects — antagonizing  my  father — paying 
no  heed  to  my  advice!"  The  girl's  sentences  were 
galloping  breathlessly 

"We'll  have  time  to  talk  It  over,  Lana!" 

"What!  Talk  it  over  after  you  have  been  reck- 
less enough  to  spoil  everything?  You  must  stand 
with  your  friends,  I  tell  you  I  Father  is  wiser  than 
you!     Isn't  he  right?" 

"I — I  guess  he  thinks  he  is— but  I  can't  talk  about 
it."     He  was  backing  toward  the  door. 

"You  must  know  what  it  means — for  us  two — if 
you  go  headlong  against  him.  I  stand  stanchly  for 
my  father — always!" 

"I  reckon  you'll  have  to  be  sort  of  loyal  to  your 
father — but  I  can't  talk  about  it!  Not  now!"  he 
repeated.  He  was  uncomfortably  aware  that  he 
had  no  words  to  fit  the  case. 

"  But  if  you  don't  stand  with  him,  you're  in  with 

the  rabble — the  rabble,"  she  declared,  indignantly. 

"He  says  you   are!     Stewart,   I   know  you  won't 

insult  his  wisdom   and   deny  my  prayer  to  you! 

179 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Only  a  few  moments  ago  I  was  ready —  But  I 
cannot  say  those  words  to  you  unless —  You 
understand!" 

This  interview  had  been  permitted  only  oecause 
Senator  Corson's  attention  had  been  absorbed  by 
Mrs.  Stanton's  hysterical  questions.  But  the  lady's 
fears  did  not  affect  her  eyesight.  She  had  noted 
Lana's  departure  and  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
mayor  when  he  strode  past  the  ballroom  door  with 
his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"Yes,  I'll  be  calm,  Senator!  I*m  sure  that  we'll 
be  perfectly  protected.  Lana  followed  the  mayor 
just  now,  and  I  suppose  she  is  insisting  on  a  double 
detail  of  police." 

The  Senator  promptly  followed,  too,  to  find  out 
more  exactly  what  Lana  was  insisting  on. 

"Haven't  you  joined  your  rabble  yet,  Morrison?" 
Corson  queried,  insolently,  when  he  came  upon  the 
two. 

"I'm  going,  sir — going  right  along!" 

Lana  set  her  hands  together,  the  fingers  interlaced 
so  tightly  that  the  flesh  was  as  white  as  her  cheeks. 
"*Your  rabble!'  Stewart!  Oh!  Oh!"  In  spite  of 
her  thinly  veiled  threat  of  a  few  moments  ago,  there 
was  piteous  protest  in  her  face  and  voice. 

"According  to  suggestions  from  all  quarters,  I 
don't  seem  to  fit  any  other  kind  of  society  just 
now,"  he  replied,  ruefully.  He  marched  out  into 
the  night. 

"Call  my  car,"  Senator  Corson  directed  a  servant. 

1 80 


Flarebacks  in  the  Case  of  Love  and  a  Mob 

In  the  reception-hall  he  encountered  Silas  Daunt. 
**Slip  on  your  hat  and  coat.  Come  along  with  me 
to  the  State  House.  I'll  show  you  how  practical 
politics  can  settle  a  rumpus,  after  a  visionary  has 
tumbled  down  on  his  job!" 


XII 

RIFLES  RULE    IN   THE    PEOPLE*S    HOUSE 

KT  eleven  o'clock  Ad j .-Gen.  Amos  Totten  set 
"**■  up  the  cinch  of  his  sword-belt  by  a  couple  of 
holes  and  began  another  tour  of  inspection  of  the 
State  House.  He  considered  that  the  parlous  situa- 
tion in  state  affairs  demanded  full  dress.  During 
the  evening  he  had  been  going  on  his  rounds  at  half- 
hour  intervals.  On  each  trip  he  had  been  much 
pleased  by  the  strict,  martial  discipline  and  alertness 
displayed  by  his  guardsmen.  The  alertness  was 
especially  noticeable;  every  soldier  was  tautly  at 
'tention  when  the  boss  warrior  hove  in  sight.  General 
Totten  was  portly  and  came  down  hard  on  his  heels 
with  an  elderly  man's  slumping  gait,  and  his  sword 
clattered  loudly  and  his  movements  were  as  well 
advertised  as  those  of  a  belled  cat  in  a  country 
kitchen. 

In  the  interims,  between  the  tours  of  General 
Totten,  Captain  Danny  Sweetsir  did  his  best  to 
keep  his  company  up  to  duty  pitch.  But  he  was 
obliged  to  admit  to  himself  that  the  boys  were  not 

taking  the   thing   as   seriously   as   soldiers   should. 

182 


Rifles  Rule  in  the  People^s  House 

Squads  were  scattered  all  over  the  lower  part  of  the 
great  building,  guarding  the  various  entrances. 
While  Captain  Sweetsir  was  lecturing  the  tolerant 
listeners  of  one  squad,  he  was  irritably  aware  that 
the  boys  of  the  squads  that  were  not  under  espionage 
were  doing  nigh  about  everything  that  a  soldier  on 
duty  should  not  do,  their  diversions  limited  only  by 
their  lack  of  resources. 

Therefore,  when  General  Totten  complimented 
him  at  eleven  o'clock.  Captain  Sweetsir  had  no 
trouble  at  all  in  disguising  his  gratification  and  in 
assuming  the  approved,  sour  demeanor  of  military 
gravity.  Even  then  his  ears,  sharpened  by  his  in- 
dignation, caught  the  clicking  of  dice  on  tiles. 

"Of  course,  there  will  be  no  actual  trouble  to- 
night," said  the  general,  removing  his  cap  and  strok- 
ing his  bald  head  complacently.  "I  have  assured 
the  boys  that  there  will  be  no  trouble.  But  this 
experience  is  excellent  military  training  for  them, 
and  I'm  pleased  to  note  that  they're  thoroughly  on 
the  qui  vive" 

Captain  Sweetsir,  on  his  own  part,  did  not  appre- 
hend trouble,  either,  but  the  A.-G.*s  bland  and  un- 
conscious encouragement  of  laxity  was  distinctly 
irritating.  "Excuse  me,  sir,  but  I  have  been  telling 
'em  right  along  that  there  will  be  a  rumpus.  I  was 
trying  to  key  'em  up!" 

"Remember  that  you're  a  citizen  as  well  as  a 

soldier!"   The  general  rebuked  his  subaltern  sternly. 

"Don't  defame  the  fair  name  of  your  city  and  state, 
13  183 


All-Wool  Morrison 

sir!  The  guard  has  been  called  out  by  His  Excel- 
lency, the  Commander-in-Chief,  merely  as  a  precau- 
tion. The  presence  of  troops  in  the  State  House 
— their  mere  presence  here — has  cleared  the  whole 
situation.  Mayor  Morrison  agrees  with  me  per- 
fectly on  that  point." 

**He  does.?**  demanded  the  captain,  eagerly, 
showing  relief.  "Why,  I  was  afraid — "  He  checked 
himself. 

"Of  what,  sir?" 

**He  didn't  look  like  giving  three  cheers  when  I 
told  him  in  the  mill  office  that  we  had  been  ordered 
out. 

"Mayor  Morrison  called  me  on  the  telephone  in 
the  middle  of  the  day  and  I  explained  to  him  why  it 
was  thought  necessary  to  have  the  State  House 
guarded.** 

**And  what  did  he  say?"  urged  the  captain,  still 
more  eagerly.  Again  he  caught  himself.  He  saluted. 
"I  beg  your  pardon.  General  Totten.  I  have  no 
right  to  put  questions  to  my  superior  officer.** 

But  General  Totten  was  not  a  military  martinet. 
He  was  an  amiable  gentleman  from  civil  life,  strong 
with  the  proletariat  because  he  had  been  through  the 
chairs  in  many  fraternal  organizations  and,  there- 
fore, handy  in  politics;  and  he  was  strong  with  the 
Governor  on  account  of  another  fraternal  tie — his 
sister  was  the  Governor*s  wife.  General  Totten,  as 
a  professional  mixer,  enjoyed  a  chat. 

"That*s  all  right.  Captain!    What  did  the  mayor 

184 


Ri^es  Rule  in  the  People* s  House 

say,  you  ask?  He  courteously  made  no  comment. 
Official  tact!  He  is  well  gifted  in  that  line.  His 
manner  spoke  for  him — signified  his  complete  agree- 
ment.    He  was  cordially  polite!     Very!" 

The  general  put  on  his  cap  and  slanted  it  at  a 
jaunty  angle.  "And  he  still  approves.  Is  very 
grateful  for  the  manner  in  which  I'm  handling  the 
situation.  He  called  me  only  a  few  minutes  ago. 
From  his  residence!  I  informed  him  that  all  was 
serene  on  Capitol  Hill." 

"And  what  did  he  say  when  he  called  you  this 
time?" 

"Nothing!  Oh,  nothing  by  way  of  criticism! 
Distinctly  aflPable!" 

Captain  Sweetsir  did  not  display  the  enthusiasm 
that  General  Totten  seemed  to  expect. 

"  Let's  see.  Captain !     You  are  employed  by  him  ?  '* 

"Not  quite  that  way!  I'm  a  mill  student — 
learning  the  wool  business  at  St.  Ronan's." 

"Aren't  you  and  Mayor  Morrison  friendly?" 

"Oh  yes!  Certainly,  sir!  But — "  Captain 
Sweetsir  appeared  to  be  having  much  difficulty  in 
completing  his  sentences,  now  that  Stewart  Mor- 
rison had  become  the  topic  of  conversation. 

"But  what?" 

"He  didn't  say  anything,  you  tell  me?'* 

"His  cordiality  spoke  louder  than  words.  And, 
of  course,  I  was  glad  to  meet  him  half-way.  I  have 
invited  him  to  call  at  the  State  House,  if  he  cares  to 
do  so,  though  the  hour  is  late.     And  now  I  come  to 

18S 


All-Wool  Morrison 

the  matter  of  my  business  with  you,  Captain  Sweet- 
sir,"  stated  the  general,  putting  a  degree  of  official 
sanction  on  his  garrulity  in  the  case  of  this  subordi- 
nate. "If  Mayor  Morrison  does  come  to  the  State 
House  to-night,  by  any  chance,  you  may  admit  him." 

"Did  he  say  anything  about  coming?" 

**  Mayor  Morrison  understands  that  I  am  handling 
everything  so  tactfully  that  an  official  visit  by  him 
might  be  considered  a  reflection  on  my  capability. 
His  politeness  equals  mine.  Captain.  Undoubtedly 
he  will  not  trouble  to  come.  If  he  should  happe 
to  call  unofficially  you  will  please  see  to  it  that 
politeness  governs." 

"Yes,  sir!  But  the  other  orders  hold  good  do 
they,  politeness  or  no  politeness?" 

"For  mobs  and  meddling  politicians,  certainly!  I 
put  them  all  in  the  same  class  in  a  time  like  this." 

General  Totten  clucked  a  stuffy  chuckle  and 
clanked  on  his  official  way. 

Captain  Sweetsir  heard  a  sound  that  was  as  fully 
exasperating  as  the  click  of  dice;  somebody,  some- 
where in  the  dimly  lighted  rotunda,  was  snoring. 
He  had  previously  found  sluggards  asleep  on  set- 
tees; he  went  in  search  of  the  latest  offender.  But 
his  thoughts  were  occupied  principally  by  reflection 
on  that  peculiar  reticence  of  the  Morrison  of  St. 
Ronan's;  Mill-student  Sweetsir  was  assailed  by 
doubts  of  the  correctness  of  General  Totten's  com- 
fortable conclusions.  Mr.  Sweetsir,  in  the  line  of 
business,    had    had    opportunity    on    previous    oc- 

i86 


Rifles  Rule  in  the  People's  House 

casions  to  observe  the  reaction  of  the  Morrison's 
reticence. 

The  adjutant-general  did  not  bother  with  tne 
elevator.  He  marched  up  the  middle  of  the  grand 
stairway. 

The  State  House  was  only  partially  illuminated 
with  discreet  stint  of  lights.  All  the  outside  incan- 
descents  of  dome,  porte-cocherey  and  vestibules  had 
been  extinguished.  The  inside  lights  were  limited 
to  those  in  the  corridors  and  the  lobbies.  The  great 
building  on  Capitol  Hill  seemed  like  a  cowardly  giant, 
clumsily  intent  on  being  inconspicuous.  , 

General  Totten  did  not  harmonize  with  the  hush. 
He  was  distinctly  an  ambulatory  noise  in  the  cor- 
ridor which  led  to  the  executive  department.  He 
was  announced  informally,  therefore,  to  His  Excel- 
lency. There  was  no  way  of  announcing  oneself 
formally  to  the  Governor  at  that  hour,  except  by 
rapping  on  the  door  of  the  private  chamber.  The 
reception-room  was  empty,  the  private  secretary 
was  not  on  duty,  the  messenger  of  the  Governor  and 
of  the  Executive  Council  had  been  informed  by 
Governor  North  that  his  services  would  not  be 
required  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

Being  both  adjutant-general  and  brother-in-law, 
Totten  did  not  bother  to  knock. 

The  Governor  was  at  his  broad  table  in  the  center 

of  the  room;  the  big  chandelier  above  the  table  was 

ablaze,  and  the  shadows  of  the  grooves  on  North's 

face   were    accentuated.     He   was    staring    at    the 

187 


All-Wool  Morrison 

opening  door  with  an  expectancy  that  had  been  fully 
apprised  as  to  the  caller's  identity,  and  he  was  not 
cordial.  "You  make  a  devilish  noise  lugging  that 
meat-cleaver  around,  Amos.  What's  the  use  of  all 
the  full-dress  nonsense?" 

"Official  example  and** — ^the  general  bore  down 
hard  on  the  conjunction — "the  absolute  necessity 
of  a  civilian  officer  getting  into  uniform  when  he 
exercises  authority.     I  know  human  nature!" 

"All  right!  Maybe  you  do.  But  don't  trip 
yourself  up  with  that  sword  and  fall  down  and  break 
your  neck,"  advised  the  Governor,  satirically  solici- 
tous as  one  of  the  family.  "Anything  stirring 
down-stairs?" 

"The  situation  is  being  handled  perfectly.  Ev- 
erybody alert.  It's  wonderful  training  for  the 
guards." 

"I  haven't  liked  the  sound  of  reports  from  the 
city.     Has  any  news  come  to  you  lately?'* 

"Nothing  of  special  importance.  Only  a  little 
disturbance,  or  the  threat  of  one,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Senator  Corson's  residence.  His  secretary  called 
up.     I  sent  a  few  boys  down  there." 

"A  disturbance?"  barked  North. 

"I  didn't  quite  gather  the  details.  The  man  ran 
his  words  together."  General  Totten  helped  himself 
to  one  of  his  brother-in-law's  cigars. 

"This  sounds  serious.  Why  the  infernal  blazes 
don't  you  wake  up?" 

"An  officer  commanding  troops  mustn't  be  thrown 

i88 


Rifles  Rule  in  the  People's  House 

off  his  poise  by  every  flurry.  What  would  happen 
if  I  didn't  keep  my  head?" 

"When  was  this?" 

"Oh,  maybe  half  an  hour  ago,"  replied  the  ad- 
jutant-general, with  martial  indifference  to  any  mere 
rumblings  of  popular  discontent. 

"That's  probably  the  reason  why  Corson  hasn't 
got  along  yet.  I'm  expecting  him.  I  sent  for  him." 
North  twitched  his  nose;  his  eye-glasses  dropped  off 
and  dangled  at  the  end  of  their  cord.  "I  have  sent 
explicit  orders  to  Mayor  Morrison  to  tend  to  that 
mob  that  he  has  been  coddling.  He's  letting  'em 
get  away  from  him,  if  what  you  say  is  so." 

"Oh,  the  mayor  and  I  are  in  perfect  accord  and 
are  handling  the  situation.  I  have  just  been  talking 
with  him  on  the  telephone.'*  Totten  settled  his 
cigar  into  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"Where  is  he?" 

"At  his  residence!  Showing  that  he  isn't  any 
more  worried  than  I  am." 

"Well,  if  he  has  got  the  thing  in  hand  again,  I 
hope  he'll  stay  at  his  residence.  If  reports  are  any- 
thing to  go  by,  he  didn't  help  matters  by  going 
down-town  and  making  speeches  to  that  rabble." 

"Politeness  wins  in  the  long  run,  Lawrence, 
whether  you're  talking  to  the  mob  or  the  masters. 
I  make  it  my  principle  in  life.  Tact  and  diplomacy. 
Harmony  and — " 

"Hell  and  repeat!"  stormed  North.    "You  and 

Morrison  are  not  taking  this  thing  the  way  you 

189 


All-Wool  Morrison 

ought  to!  In  accord,  say  you!  He  is  torching  'em 
up  and  you  are  grinning  while  the  fire  burns!  Fine 
team-work!  Amos,  you  get  in  accord  with  me  and 
my  orders.  You  keep  away  from  Morrison  till  I 
can  make  sure  that  he  stands  clean  in  his  party 
loyalty." 

His  Excellency  was  stuttering  in  his  wrath  and  the 
general  determined  to  be  discreetly  silent  as  to  his 
recent  tender  of  politeness  to  Morrison  through  the 
captain  of  the  guards.  Furthermore,  Totten's  self- 
complacency  assured  him  that  the  mayor  of  Marion 
was  leaving  the  affairs  on  Capitol  Hill  in  the  hands 
of  the  accredited  commander  on  Capitol  Hill. 

Governor  North  pulled  open  a  drawer  of  the  table. 
He  threw  a  bunch  of  keys  to  his  brother-in-law.  "I 
had  the  messenger  leave  these  with  me.  Lock  up 
all  the  doors  of  the  Council  Chamber.  Leave  only 
my  private  door  unlocked." 

The  adjutant-general  caught  the  keys.  "But 
you  certainly  don't  expect  any  trouble  up  here,  with 
my  guards — " 

"  It's  plenty  enough  of  a  job  for  a  cat  to  watch  one 
rat-hole!    Lock  up,  I  tell  you!" 


XIII 

THE   LINE-UP  FORMS   IN  THE   PEOPLE'S  HOUSE 

"\  X  7HILE  General  Totten  was  bruising  his  dignity 
^  ^  in  the  menial  work  of  a  turnkey,  Governor 
North  received  two  visitors.  They  were  furred 
gentlemen  who  entered  abruptly  by  the  private 
door — ^the  before-mentioned  rat-hole — but  the  wait- 
ing cat  did  not  pounce.  On  the  contrary,  one  of  the 
furred  intruders  did  the  pouncing.  It  was  Senator 
Corson  and  he  was  furiously  angry. 

"What  kind  of  a  damnable  fool  has  been  giving 
ofF  orders  to  those  soldiers?  I  have  been  tramping 
around  outside  this  State  House  from  door  to  door, 
held  up  everywhere  and  insulted  by  those  young 
whelps." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  could  happen,"  protested 
the  Governor. 

"Who  gave  off  such  orders?" 

"There   were   no   orders,   not   in   your  case.    I 

didn't  think  it  was  necessary  to  specify  anything  in 

regard  to  you.  Senator.     Do  you  mean  to  tell  me 

that  there's  a  man  down  there  who  didn't  recognize 

191 


All-Wool  Morrison 

you — ^who  refused  to  allow  you  to  pass  without 
question  ?  ** 

"They  all  know  me!  Of  course  they  know  me. 
And  that's  the  whole  trouble.  They  made  that  the 
reason  why  they  wouldn't  let  me  in  here." 

"How  in  the  devil's  name  could  that  be?'*  The 
Governor's  anger  that  promised  punishment  for  the 
offenders  served  Senator  Corson  in  lieu  of  apology. 

"I  was  informed  that  there  were  strict  orders  not 
to  admit  politicians.  According  to  those  lunkheads 
at  the  doors  I  came  under  that  classification."  The 
Senator  threw  off  his  coat.  "And  Daunt,  here,  was 
penalized  on  account  of  the  company  he  was  keeping. 
Find  out  who  gave  those  orders." 

General  Totten  had  locked  the  doors  and  was 
nervously  jangling  the  keys. 

"Amos,  what  kind  of  a  fool  have  you  been  making 
yourself  with  your  orders?"  the  Governor  demanded. 

"I — I  think  some  instructions  of  mine  in  regard 
to  admitting  any  of  those  persons  whose  seats  are  in 
dispute — probably  those  orders  were  misconstrued. 
My  guards  are  very  zealous — very  alert,"  affirmed 
the  adjutant-general,  putting  as  good  a  face  on  the 
matter  as  was  possible.  He  fully  realized  that  this 
was  no  time  to  mention  that  exception  in  favor 
of  Mayor  Morrison,  or  to  explain  that  he  had 
intended  to  have  Captain  Sweetsir  accept  humor- 
ously instead  of  literally  the  more  recent  statement 
about  politicians. 

"There  are  two  of  those  alert  patriots  who  have 

192 


The  Line-up  Forms  in  the  People* s  House 

had  their  zeal  dulled  for  the  time  being,**  stated  the 
Senator,  showing  his  teeth  with  a  grim  smile.  "I 
stood  the  impertinence  as  long  as  I  could  and  then 
I  cuffed  the  ears  of  the  fools  and  walked  in.** 

"We  did  issue  strict  instructions,  as  Amos  has 
intimated,"  the  Governor  pleaded.  "Some  of  those 
Socialists  and  Progressives  who  are  claiming  their 
seats  have  hired  counsel  and  they  proposed  to  force 
their  way  into  the  House  and  Senate  chambers  and 
make  a  test  case,  inviting  forcible  expulsion.  I'm 
reckoning  that  my  plan  of  forcible  exclusion  leaves 
us  in  cleaner  shape.'* 

"I'm  not  sure  just  how  clean  the  whole  thing  is 
going  to  leave  us,  North.**  The  Senator  tossed  his 
coat  upon  a  huge  divan  at  one  side  of  the  chamber 
and  invited  Daunt  to  dispose  of  his  own  coat  in  like 
fashion.  Corson  came  to  the  table  and  sat  sidewise 
on  one  corner  of  it.  "You  know  how  I  feel  about 
your  pressing  the  election  statutes  to  the  extent 
you  have.  But  we've  got  the  old  nag  right  in  the 
middle  of  the  river,  and  we've  got  to  attend  to 
swimming  instead  of  swapping.  I  think,  in  spite  of 
all  their  howling,  the  other  crowd  will  take  their 
medicine,  as  the  courts  hand  it  to  them,  when  the 
election  cases  go  up  for  adjudication.  But  there*s  a 
gang  in  every  community  that  always  takes  advan- 
tage of  any  signs  of  a  mix-up  in  high  authority. 
My  house  got  merry  hell  from  a  mob  a  little  while 
ago.  There's  no  political  significance  in  the  matter, 
however!'* 

193 


All-Wool  Morrison 

The  Governor  queried  anxiously  for  details  and 
Corson  gave  them.  He  bitterly  arraigned  Morri- 
son's stand. 

North  came  to  his  feet  and  banged  his  fist  on  the 
table.  "What.?  Take  that  attitude  toward  a  mob 
in  his  own  city.?  Strike  hands  with  a  ringleader  of 
a  riot — do  it  under  a  violated  roof.?  Do  it  after 
what  he  promised  me  in  the  way  of  co-operation  for 
law  and  order?  Has  he  completely  lost  his  mind, 
Senator  Corson?" 

"I  think  so/*  stated  the  Senator,  with  sardonic 
venom.  "I'll  admit  that  the  thing  isn't  exactly 
clear  to  me — what  he's  trying  to  do — what  he's 
thinking.  A  crazy  man's  actions  and  whims  seldom 
are  understandable  by  a  sane  man.  But,  so  I 
gather,  after  showing  us,  as  he  has  this  evening,  a 
sample  of  his  work  in  running  municipal  govern- 
ment, he  now  proposes  to  take  full  charge  of  state 
matters." 

"What?"  yelled  the  Governor. 

"Yes!  Promised  the  ringleader  of  the  mob  to 
come  up  here  and  run  everything  on  Capitol  Hill. 
In  behalf  of  the  people — «s  the  people's  protector!" 
The  Senator's  irony  rasped  like  a  file  on  metal. 

Banker  Daunt  was  provoked  to  add  his  evidence. 
"It's  exactly  as  my  friend  Corson  says,  Governor. 
I  have  been  hearing  some  fine  soviet  doctrines  from 
the  mouth  of  Morrison  this  evening.  Not  at  all 
stingy  about  giving  his  help  to  all  those  who  need  it! 
Gave  his  pledge  of  assistance  to  the  fellow  in  the 

194 


The  Line-up  Forms  in   the  People* s  House 

ballroom,  as  Corson  says.  Understood  him  to  say 
that  he  is  coming  up  here  to  help  you,  too!" 

"I  rather  expected  to  find  him  here,"  pursued  the 
Senator.  "He  went  away  in  a  great  hurry  to  go 
somewhere.  But  after  my  experience  with  your  alert 
soldiers  down-stairs,  Totten,  I'm  afraid  our  generous 
savior  is  going  to  be  bothered  about  getting  in." 

The  adjutant-general  pulled  off  his  cap  and 
scrubbed  his  palm  nervously  over  the  glossy  surface 
that  was  revealed. 

"You  might  give  some  special  orders  to  admit 
him,"  suggested  Corson.  "He'll  be  a  great  help  in 
an  emergency." 

"This  settles  it  with  me  as  to  Morrison  and  his 
conception  of  law  and  order,"  affirmed  Governor 
North.  "I  have  been  depending  on  him  to  handle 
his  city.  I'd  as  soon  depend  on  Lenin  and  the  kind 
of  government  he's  running  in  Russia." 

"According  to  the  samples  furnished  by  both,  I 
think  Lenin  would  rank  higher  as  help,"  said  the 
Senator.  "At  least  he  has  shown  that  he  knows  how 
to  handle  a  mob.  But  we  may  as  well  calm  down. 
North,  and  attend  to  our  own  business.  We  are 
making  altogether  too  much  account  of  a  silly  nin- 
compoop. Daunt  and  I  let  our  feelings  get  away 
from  us  this  evening  on  the  same  subject.  But  we 
woke  up  promptly.  Morrison  was  in  a  position  to 
help  his  friends  and  to  amount  to  something  as  an 
aid  in  that  line.  Now  that  he  is  running  with  the 
rabble,   for  some  purpose  of  his  own,   he  can  be 

195 


All-Wool  Morrison 

ignored.  He  amounts  to  nothing — ^to  that!"  He 
snapped  a  derogatory  finger  into  his  palm.  "We 
can  handle  that  rabble,  Morrison  included."  He 
turned  to  the  adjutant-general.  "Your  men  seem 
to  be  alert  enough  in  keeping  out  gentlemen  who 
ought  to  be  let  in.  Do  you  think  you  can  depend  on 
them  to  keep  out  real  intruders?" 

"Oh  yes!"  faltered  Totten,  absent-mindedly.  He 
was  trying  to  clear  his  troubled  thoughts  in  regard 
to  the  matter  of  Morrison,  who  was  now  presented 
in  a  light  where  politeness  might  not  be  allowed  to 
govern  the  situation. 

"Have  they  been  put  to  any  test  of  their  courage 
and  reliability.?  Have  they  been  up  against  any 
actual  threats  from  the  outside,  this  evening?" 

"No,  but  I  can  depend  on  them  to  the  limit.  Sena- 
tor Corson.  I  have  been  on  regular  tours  of  inspec- 
tion. They  are  a  cool  and  nervy  set  of  young  men 
and  I  have  impressed  on  them  a  sense  of  what  a 
soldier  on  duty  should  be." 

"Very  well,  Totten!  Nevertheless,  let  us  hope 
that  the  mob  fools  have  gone  home  to  bed,  including 
our  friend  Morrison.  He  needs  his  sleep;  I  beheve 
he  still  follows  the  family  rule  of  being  in  his  mill  at 
seven  in  the  morning.  He's  a  good  millman,  even 
if  he  isn't  much  of  a  politician." 

"And   I   don't   look  for  any  trouble,   anyrvay," 

declared  General  Totten,  adding  in  his  thoughts,  for 

his  further  consolation,  the  assurance  that,  at  half 

past  eleven,  so  the  clock  on  the  wall  revealed  to  his 

196 


The  Line-up  Forms  in  the  People^ s  House 

gaze,  such  an  early  riser  as  Morrison  must  be  abed 
and  asleep;  therefore,  the  exception  for  the  sake  of 
politeness  did  not  threaten  to  complicate  affairs! 

But  at  that  instant  something  else  did  threaten. 

Through  the  arches  and  corridors  of  the  State 
House  rang  the  sounds  of  tumult,  breaking  on  the 
hush  with  terrifying  suddenness.  One  voice,  shout- 
ing with  frenzied  violence,  prefaced  the  general  up- 
roar; there  was  the  crashing  of  shattered  wood. 

The  rifles  barked  angrily. 

"My  God,  North!  I've  been  afraid  of  it!"  Corson 
lamented.     "You  have  crowded  'em  too  hard!" 

"I'm  going  by  the  law,  Corson!  The  election  law! 
The  statute  law!  And  the  riot  laws  of  this  state! 
The  law  says  a  mob  must  be  put  down!" 

An  immediate  and  reassuring  silence  suggested 
that  the  law  had  prevailed  and  that  a  mob  had  been 
put  down  in  this  instance.  Corson,  whose  face  was 
white  and  whose  eyes  were  distended,  voiced  that 
conviction.  "If  a  gang  had  been  able  to  get  in 
they'd  be  howling  their  heads  off.  But  it  was  quick 
over!" 

The  men  in  the  Executive  Chamber  stood  in  their 
tracks  and  exchanged  troubled  glances  in  silence. 

"Amos,  what  are  you  waiting  for?"  demanded  His 
Excellency. 

"For  a  report — an  official  report  on  the  matter," 
mumbled  the  adjutant-general,  steadying  his  trem- 
bling hands  by  shoving  them  inside  his  sword-belt. 

"Go  down  and  find  out  what  it  all  means." 

197 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"I  can  save  time  by  telephoning  to  the  watch- 
man's room,"  demurred  Totten. 

"Incidentally  saving  your  skin!"  the  Governor 
rapped  back.  "But  I  don't  care  how  you  get  the 
information,  if  only  you  get  it  and  get  it  sudden!" 

Totten  went  to  the  house  telephone  in  the  private 
secretary's  room  and  called  and  waited;  he  called 
again  and  waited. 

"Nobody  is  on  his  job  in  this  State  House  to- 
night!" His  Excellency's  fears  had  wire-edged  his 
temper.  "By  gad!  you  go  down  there  and  tend  to 
yours,  as  I  have  told  you  to  do,  Amos,  or  I'll  take 
that  sword  and  race  you  along  the  corridor  on  the 
point  of  it!" 

"We  must  be  informed  on  what  this  means," 
insisted  the  Senator. 

There  was  a  rap  on  the  private  door.  Again  the 
men  in  the  Executive  Chamber  swapped  uneasy 
glances.  Corson's  demeanor  invited  the  Governor 
to  assume  the  responsibility.  His  Excellency  was 
manifestly  shirking.  He  looked  over  his  shoulder 
in  the  direction  of  the  fireplace,  as  if  he  felt  an  im- 
pulse to  arm  himself  with  the  ornamental  poker  and 
tongs. 

"May  I  come  in?"  The  voice  was  that  of  the 
mayor  of  Marion.     The  voice  was  deprecatory. 

"Come  in!"  invited  North. 

Morrison  entered.     He  greeted  them  with  a  wide 

smile  that  did  not  fit  the  seriousness  of  the  situation, 

as  they  viewed  it.     There  was  humor  behind  the 

198 


The  Line-up  Forms  in  the  People's  House 

smile;    it  suggested  suppressed  hilarity;    it  hinted 
that  he  had  something  funny  to  tell  them. 

But  their  grim  countenances  did  not  encourage 
him. 

"If  I  am  intruding  on  important  business — " 

"Shut  the  door  behind  you!  What  is  it.?  What 
happened?"  demanded  North. 

Before  shutting  the  door  Morrison  reached  into 
the  gloom  behind  him  and  pulled  in  a  soldier. 

Stewart  had  put  off  his  evening  garb.  He  wore  a 
business  suit  of  the  shaggy  gray  mixture  that  was 
one  of  the  staples  among  the  products  of  St.  Ronan's 
mijl.  His  matter-of-fact  attire  was  not  the  only 
element  that  set  him  out  in  sharp  contrast  among 
the  claw-hammers  and  uniforms  in  the  room;  he 
was  bubbling  with  undisguised  merriment;  Corson, 
Daunt,  and  the  Governor  were  sullenly  anxious;  even 
the  young  soldier  looked  flustered  and  frightened. 

"I  have  brought  along  Paul  Duchesne  so  that  you 
may  have  it  from  his  own  mouth!  Go  ahead,  Du- 
chesne! Let  'em  in  on  the  joke!  Gentlemen,  get 
ready  for  a  laugh!"  Stewart  set  an  example  for 
them  by  a  suggestive  chuckle. 

"Your  arrival  in  the  State  House  seems  to  have 
been  attended  by  considerable  of  a  demonstra- 
tion," commented  Senator  Corson,  recovering  him- 
self sufficiently  to  indulge  in  his  animosity.  "Judg- 
ing from  your  success  in  starting  other  riots  this 
evening,  I  ought  to  have  guessed  that  you  were  in 
the  neighborhood." 
14  199 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"My  arrival  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the 
demonstration,  Senator.     Go  on,  Duchesne!" 

"I  jomped  myself,"  stammered  the  soldier,  a 
particularly  crestfallen  Canuck. 

"I  see  you  don't  grasp  the  idea,"  Morrison 
hastened  to  put  in.  **We  mustn't  have  the  flavor 
of  the  joke  spoiled.  I  know  Paul,  here.  He  works 
in  my  mill.  He  has  a  little  affliction  that's  rather 
common  among  French  Canadians.  He's  a  jumper." 
He  suddenly  clapped  the  youth  on  the  shoulder  and 
yelled  "Hi!"  so  loudly  that  all  the  auditors  leaped 
in  trepidation.  The  soldier  leaped  the  highest,  flung 
his  arms  about  wildly,  and  let  out  a  resounding  yelp. 

"That's  the  idea!"  explained  Stewart.  "A  con- 
genital nervous  trouble.     Jumpers,  they  are  called ! " 

"What  the  devil  is  this  all  about?"  raged  the 
Governor. 

"Tell  'em,  Paul.     Hurry  up!'* 

"I  gone  off  on  de  nap  on  a  settee,"  muttered 
Duchesne,  twisting  his  fingers  together. 

General  Totten  winced. 

"Dere  ban  whole  lot  o'  dem  gone  off  on  de  nap, 
too,"  asserted  the  guard,  offering  defense  for  himself. 

"By  way  of  showing  alertness,  Totten!"  growled 
the  Senator. 

"So  I  ban  dream  somet'ing!  Ba  gar!  I  dream  dat 
t'ree  or  two  bobcat  he  come — " 

"Never  mind  the  details  of  the  dream,  Paul!" 
interposed  Morrison.  "These  gentlemen  have  busi- 
ness!    Get  'em  to  the  laugh,  quick!" 

2CX> 


The  Line-up  Forms  in   the  People* s  House 

"Ma  big  button  on  ma  belt  she  caught  on  de  crack 
between  de  slat  of  dat  settee.  And  when  I  fight  all 
dat  bobcat  dat  jomp  on  maself,  ba  gee!  it  was  de 
settee  dat  fall  on  me  and  I  fight  dat  all  over  de  floor. 
Dat's  all!    Oh  yes!     Dey  all  wake  up  and  shoot!" 

"And  nobody  hurt!"  stated  Morrison.  He  gazed 
at  the  sour  faces  of  the  Hsteners.  "Great  Scott! 
Doesn't  Duchesne's  battle  to  the  death  with  a  settee 
get  even  a  grin  ?     What's  the  matter  with  all  of  you  ? " 

"We  seem  to  be  quite  all  right — in  our  normal 
senses,"  returned  the  Senator,  icily.  "I  believe 
there  are  persons  who  gibber  and  giggle  at  mishaps 
to  others — but  I  also  believe  that  such  a  peculiar 
sense  of  humor  is  confined  largely  to  institutions  for 
the  refuge  of  the  feeble-minded." 

"You  may  go  back  to  your  nap,  Duchesne!" 
The  mayor  turned  on  the  soldier  and  spoke  sharply. 
He  followed  the  young  man  to  the  door  and  closed 
it  behind  Duchesne. 

He  marched  across  the  chamber  and  faced  the 
surly  Governor.  "I  brought  the  boy  here,  Your 
Excellency,  so  that  you  might  get  the  thing  straight. 
I  hope  you  believe  him,  even  if  you  don't  take  much 
stock  in  me!"  Morrison's  face  matched  the  others 
in  gravity.  There  was  an  incisive  snap  in  his  tone. 
"I  happened  to  be  in  the  rotunda  when  the — " 

"How  did  you  happen  to  be  in  the  rotunda,  sir — 
past  the  guards?" 

"I  walked  in." 

"By  whose  permission.?" 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Why,  I  reckoned  it  must  have  been  yours," 
returned  Stewart,  calmly. 

"I  gave  no  such  permission." 

"Well,  at  any  rate,  I  was  informed  by  the  guards 
that  a  special  exception  had  been  made  in  my  case. 
Furthermore,  Governor  North,  you  told  me  this 
evening  that  if  I  needed  any  specific  information  I 
could  find  you  at  the  State  House." 

"By  telephone,  sir!  By  telephone!  I  distinctly 
stipulated  that!" 

"I'm  sorry!  I  was  considerably  engrossed  by 
other  matters  just  then.  Perhaps  I  didn't  get  you 
straight.  However,  telephone  conferences  are  apt 
to  be  unsatisfactory  for  both  parties.  I'm  glad  I 
came  up.  I  assure  you  it's  no  personal  inconvenience 
to  me,  sir!'* 

"There's  a  fine  system  of  military  guard  here,  and 
a  fine  bunch  to  enforce  it.  That's  what  I've  got  on 
my  mind  to  say!"  whipped  out  the  Senator.  "If 
one  man  and  a  settee  can  show  up  your  soldiers  in 
that  fashion,  Totten,  what  will  a  real  affair  do  to 
them?" 

"  Nobody  sent  for  you.  Mayor  Morrison.  Nobody 
understands  why  you're  here,"  stated  Governor 
North.     "You're  not  needed." 

The  intruder  hesitated  for  a  few  moments.  His 
eyes  found  no  welcome  in  any  of  the  faces  in  the 
Executive  Chamber.  He  swapped  a  whimsical  smile 
for  their  frowns. 

"Well,  at  all  events,  I'm  here,"  he  said,  mildly. 


The  Line-up  Forms  in   the  People's  House 

He  was  carrying  his  overcoat  on  his  arm,  his  hat 
in  his  hand.  He  went  across  the  room  and  laid  the 
garment  carefully  on  the  divan,  smoothing  its  folds. 
His  manner  indicated  that  he  felt  that  the  coat  might 
be  lying  there  for  some  little  time,  and  consideration 
for  good  cloth  was  ingrained  in  a  Morrison. 


XIV 

THE    IMPENDING   SHAME    OF   A    STATE 

AA  ORRISON,  returning  from  the  shadows,  stand- 
^'  ^  ing  in  the  hght-flood  from  the  great  chandeher, 
confronted  three  men  who  were  making  no  effort  to 
disguise  their  angry  hostility. 

The  adjutant-general,  nervously  neutral,  dreading 
incautious  words  that  would  reveal  his  unfortunate 
policy  of  politeness,  tiptoed  to  the  table  and  laid 
there  the  bunch  of  keys.  "I'm  needed  officially 
down-stairs.  Your  Excellency!" 

"By  Judas!  I  should  think  you  were!" 

Stewart  placed  a  restraining  hand  on  Totten's 
arm.  "I  beg  your  pardon.  Governor,  but  we  need 
the  adjutant-general  of  the  state  in  our  conference." 

"Conference  about  what?'* 

"About  the  situation  that's  developing  outside, 
sir." 

"I'm  principally  interested  in  the  situation  that 
has  developed  inside.  In  just  what  capacity  do  you 
appear  here.^"' 

There  was  offensive  challenge  in  every  intonation 

of  North's  voice.     His  eyes  protruded,  purple  cir- 

204 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

clets  made  his  cheek-bones  look  like  little  knobs,  he 
shoved  forward  his  eye-glasses  as  far  as  the  cord  per- 
mitted and  waggled  them  with  a  hand  that  trembled. 

Morrison's  good  humor  continued;  his  calmness 
was  giving  him  a  distinct  advantage,  and  North,  still 
shaken  by  the  panic  of  a  few  moments  before,  was 
forced  farther  off  his  poise  by  realization  of  that 
advantage. 

"Allow  me  to  be  present  simply  as  an  unprejudiced 
constituent  of  yours.  Governor  North." 

"Judging  from  all  reports,  I'm  not  sure  whether 
you  are  a  constituent  or  not.  I'm  considerably 
doubtful  about  your  politics,  Morrison." 

"I  hope  you  don't  intend  to  read  me  out  of  the 
party,  sir!  But  if  that  question  is  in  doubt,  please 
permit  me  to  be  here  as  the  mayor  of  the  city  of 
Marion.     There's  no  doubt  about  my  being  that!" 

"Let  me  remind  you  that  this  is  the  State  House, 
not  City  Hall." 

"  But  tolerate  me  for  a  few  minutes !  I  beg  of  you, 
sir!     Both  of  us  are  sworn  executives!" 

**Your  duties  lie  where  you  belong — down  in  your 
city.     This  is  the  State  House,  I  repeat!" 

"Do  you  absolutely  refuse  to  give  me  a  courteous 
hearing?'* 

"Under  the  circumstances,  after  your  actions  this 
evening,  after  your  public  alliance  with  the  mob  and 
your  boasts  of  what  you  were  coming  up  here  to  do, 
I'm  taking  no  chances  on  you.  You're  only  an 
intruder.    Again,  this  is  the  State  House!" 

205 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Morrison  dropped  his  deference.  He  shot  out  a 
forefinger  that  was  just  as  emphatic  as  the  Governor's 
eye-glasses.  "I  accept  your  declaration  as  to  what 
this  place  is!  It  is  the  State  House.  It  is  the  Big 
House  of  the  People.  I'm  a  joint  owner  in  it.  I'm 
here  on  my  own  ground  as  a  citizen,  as  a  taxpayer  in 
this  state.  I  have  personal  business  here.  Let  me 
inform  you,  Governor  North,  that  I'm  going  to  stay 
until  I  finish  that  business." 

"That  poppycock  kind  of  reasoning  would  allow 
every  mob-mucker  in  this  state  to  rampage  through 
here  at  his  own  sweet  will.  General  Totten,  call  a 
corporal  and  his  squad.     Put  this  man  out." 

Senator  Corson  grunted  his  indorsement  and  went 
to  a  chair  and  sat  down.  His  Excellency  was  pur- 
suing his  familiar  tactics  in  an  emergency — the 
rough  tactics  that  were  characteristic  of  him.  In 
this  case  Senator  Corson  approved  and  allowed  the 
Governor  to  boss  the  operation. 

"I — I  think.  Mayor  Morrison,"  ventured  the 
adjutant-general,  "considering  that  recent  perfect 
understanding  we  had  on  the  matter,  that  we'd  do 
well  to  keep  this  on  the  plane  of  politeness." 

"So  do  I,"  Stewart  agreed. 

"Then  I  hazard  the  guess  that  you'll  accompany 
me  down-stairs  to  the  door.  Calling  a  guard  would 
be  mutually  embarrassing." 

"It  sure  would,"  asserted  Stewart,  agreeing  still. 

"Then — "     The  general  crooked  a  polite  arm  and 

offered  it. 

206 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

"But  your  guess  was  too  much  of  a  hazard!  You 
don't  win!" 

However,  Morrison  turned  on  his  heel  and  ran 
toward  the  private  door.  He  appeared  to  be  solving 
all  difficulties  by  flight.  It  was  plain  that  those  in 
the  room  supposed  so;  their  tension  relaxed;  the 
mayor  of  Marion  was  manifestly  avoiding  the 
ignominy  of  ejection  from  the  Capitol  by  the  militia 
— and  that  would  be  a  fine  piece  of  news  to  be 
bruited  on  the  streets  next  day,  if  he  had  remained 
to  force  that  issue! 

Stewart  flung  open  the  door.  But  instead  of 
stepping  through  he  stepped  back.  "Come  in,"  he 
called. 

Paymaster  Andrew  Mac  Tavish  led  the  way, 
plodding  stolidly,  his  neck  particularly  rigid.  Delora 
bunker,  stenographer  at  St.  Ronan's  mill,  followed. 
Last  came  Patrolman  Rellihan,  his  bulk  nigh  filling 
the  door,  his  helmeted  head  almost  scraping  the 
lintel.  He  carried  a  night-stick  that  resembled  a 
flail-handle  rather  than  the  usual  locust  club. 
Morrison  slammed  the  door  and  Rellihan  put  his 
back  against  it. 

There  was  a  profound  hush  in  the  Executive  Cham- 
ber. The  feet  of  those  who  entered  made  no  sound 
on  the  thick  carpet.  Those  who  were  in  the  chamber 
offered  evidence  of  the  truism  that  there  are  situa- 
tions where  words  fail  to  do  justice  to  the  emotions. 

Morrison  was  the  first  to  speak.     He  walked  to  the 

table  before  uttering  a  word;   on  his  way  across  the 

207 


All-Wool  Morrison 

room  his  eyes  were  on  the  keys.  When  he  leaned 
on  the  table  he  put  one  hand  over  them.  "This 
invasion  seems  outrageous,  gentlemen.  Undoubt- 
edly it  is.  But  I  have  tried  another  plan  with  you 
and  it  did  not  succeed.  I  had  hoped  that  I  would 
not  need  these  assistants  whom  I  have  just  called 
in.'* 

"Totten,  go  bring  the  guard!"  North's  voice  was 
balefully  subdued. 

Rellihan  looked  straight  ahead  and  twirled  his 
stick. 

"I  apologize  for  stretching  my  special  exception 
a  bit,  and  introducing  these  guests  past  the  boys  at 
the  door,"  Stewart  went  on.  "I'm  breaking  the 
rules  of  politeness — and  the  rules  of  everything  else, 
I'm  afraid.  But  all  rules  seem  to  be  suspended 
to-night!" 

"Totten!"  the  Governor  roared,  pounding  his  fist 
on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

Morrison  gave  the  policeman  a  side-glance  as  if  to 
inform  himself  that  all  was  right  with  Rellihan. 

Then  he  pulled  a  handy  chair  to  the  table  and  mo- 
tioned to  Miss  Bunker.  She  sat  down  and  opened 
her  note-book. 

"I  have  come  here  on  business,  gentlemen,  and 
you  must  allow  me  to  follow  some  of  my  business 
methods.  The  heat  of  argument  often  causes  men 
to  forget  what  has  been  said.  I'm  willing  to  leave 
what  I  may  say  to  the  record,  and,  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  all  this  is  public  business,  I  trust  I'll  have 

2C8 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

your  co-operation  along  the  same  line.  And  there's 
a  young  lady  present,"  he  added.  "That  fact  will 
help  us  to  get  along  wonderfully  well  together." 

"What's  that  devilish  policeman  doing  at  my 
door?"  demanded  the  Governor,  finding  that  his 
frantic  gestures  were  not  starting  the  adjutant- 
general  on  his  way. 

"Insuring  complete  privacy!"  The  mayor  beamed 
on  the  Governor.  "Nothing  gets  in — nothing  gets 
out!" 

North  grabbed  the  telephone  instrument  on  his 
desk. 

One  of  Stewart's  hands  was  covering  the  keys; 
with  the  fingers  of  the  other  hand  he  had  been 
fumbling  under  the  edge  of  the  desk.  He  suddenly 
pulled  wires  from  the  confining  staples;  he  yanked 
a  big  mill-knife  from  his  trousers  pocket  and  cut  the 
wires.  North  flung  a  dead  instrument  clattering  on 
the  broad  table  and  found  only  oaths  fit  to  apply  to 
this  perfectly  amazing  effrontery. 

"You  need  not  take.  Miss  Bunker!"  The  quiet 
dignity  of  Morrison  and  the  rebuke  the  Governor 
found  in  the  girl's  contemplative  eyes  choked  off  the 
profanity  as  effectively  as  would  gripping  fingers  at 
his  throat. 

"I  realize  that  all  this  is  absolutely  unprecedented 
— has  never  been  done  before — is  unadulterated  gall 
on  my  part,  Governor  North.  Perhaps  I  haven't  a 
leg  to  stand  on." 

"Morrison,  this  infernal  nonsense  must  cease!" 

209 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Senator  Corson  shouted,  leaping  from  his  chair  and 
shaking  both  fists. 

"You  need  not  take,  Miss  Bunker!" 

Corson  gulped  and  surveyed  the  young  lady,  and 
found  her  eyes  as  disconcertingly  rebuking  as  they 
had  proved  in  the  case  of  North. 

"Not  especially  on  account  of  the  style  of  your 
language,  Senator!  But  you  are  merely  a  visitor 
here,  the  same  as  I!  At  the  present  time  your 
comments  on  the  business  between  the  Governor 
and  myself  can  scarcely  have  any  weight  in  the 
record." 

"What  in  blazes  is  that  business .f'  Get  it  out 
of  you!"  commanded  the  other  principal  in  the 
controversy. 

"With  pleasure!  Thank  you  for  coming  down  to 
the  matter  in  hand.     You  may  take.  Miss  Bunker. 

"Governor  North,  I  have  been  about  among 
people  this  evening  and — " 

"You  have  been  making  incendiary  speeches,  and 
I  demand  to  know  what  you  have  said  and  why  you 
have  said  it!" 

"I  have  no  time  now  to  go  into  those  details. 
My  business  is  more  pressing,  sir." 

"You're  in  cahoots  with  a  mob!  I  saw  you 
operating,  with  my  own  eyes,  under  my  own  roof," 
asserted  Senator  Corson,  violently. 

"I  have  no  time  for  discussing  that  matter." 
Morrison  looked  up  at  the  clock  on  the  wall.  "This 
other  business,  I  assert,  is  urgent." 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

Banker  Daunt  had  been  holding  his  peace,  growl- 
ing anathema  to  himself  in  the  depths  of  a  big 
chair. 

He  struggled  to  the  edge  of  that  chair.  "I  am  in 
this  building  right  now  to  warn  the  Governor  of  this 
state  that  you  are  playing  your  own  selfish  game  to 
stifle  enterprise  and  development  and  to  discourage 
outside  capital — hundreds  of  thousands  of  it — wait- 
ing to  come  in  here." 

"Pardon  me,  sir!  I  have  no  time  to  discuss 
water-power,  either!  Right  now  I'm  submitting 
news  instead  of  theories!'*  He  faced  the  Governor 
again.  "That's  why  I'm  here — I'm  bringing  news. 
That  news  must  put  everything  else  to  one  side. 
We  have  minutes  only  to  deal  with  the  matter. 
And  if  we  don't  use  those  minutes  with  all  the  wisdom 
that's  in  us,  the  shame  of  our  state  will  be  on  the 
wires  of  the  world  inside  of  an  hour!" 

His  vehemence  intimidated  them.  His  manner 
as  the  bearer  of  ill  tidings  won  what  his  appeals  had 
not  secured — an  instant  hearing. 

"What  I  say  will  be  a  matter  of  record,  and  the 
blame  will  be  placed  where  it  belongs.  You  can't 
claim  that  you  didn't  have  facts.  I  have  been 
among  the  people.  I  have  sent  others  among  'em 
and  I  have  received  reports  and  I  know  what  I  am 
talking  about.  There's  a  mob  massing  down-town 
— a  mob  made  up  of  many  different  elements! 
That  kind  of  mob  can*t  be  handled  by  mere  argu- 
ments or  by   machine-guns.     That   mob   must   be 


All-Wool  Morrison 

shown!  Talking  won't  do  any  good.  Just  a  mo- 
ment! You  won't  do  what  you  ought  to  do,  Gov- 
ernor, unless  you  have  this  thing  driven  straight  at 
you!  In  that  mob  are  the  men  who  have  voted  for 
various  members  of  the  legislature  who  claim  seats 
and  whose  seats  are  threatened.  It's  a  personal 
matter  with  those  men.  You  can't  soft-soap  'em 
to-night  with  promises  of  what  the  courts  will  do. 
Several  hundred  huskies  are  on  the  way  over  here 
from  the  Agawam  quarries  Those  men  don't  care 
about  this  or  that  candidate.  They  have  been  paid 
to  grab  in  on  general  principles — and  they're  bringing 
sledge-hammers.  In  that  mob,  also,  are  the  Red 
aliens  who  keep  under  cover  till  a  row  breaks  out; 
any  kind  of  trouble  suits  their  purpose — and  you 
know  what  their  purpose  is  in  regard  to  this  govern- 
ment of  ours.  They're  coming,  I  tell  you.  They're 
coming  on  to  Capitol  Hill!" 

"And  what  have  you  been  doing  to  stop  'em,  after 
all  your  promises  of  what  you'd  do?"  raged  North. 

"I've  been  doing  the  best  I  could,  with  what  loyal 
boys  I  could  depend  on.  But  I  want  to  know  now 
what  you  re  going  to  do?" 

"Shoot  every  damnation  thug  of  'em  who  gets  in 
range  of  our  machine-guns.  Totten,  hustle  yourself 
down-stairs  and  see  that  it's  done!" 

"General  Totten  will  not  leave  this  room — not 
now!     You're  all  wrong,  Governor." 

"That's  the  way  a  mob  was  handled  in  one  state 
in  this  Union  not  so  very  long  ago,  and  the  Governor 

212 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

was  right!  He  was  hailed  from  one  end  of  the 
country  to  the  other  as  right!" 

"The  principle  behind  him  was  right — that*s 
what  you  mean,  Governor  North.  That  was  just 
the  point  he  made!" 

"Do  you  dare  to  stand  there  and  intimate  that  I 
haven't  got  principle  behind  me?  Statute  law, 
election  law?" 

Morrison  glanced  again  at  the  clock;  then  he 
tossed  a  bomb  into  the  argument.  "The  principle 
in  this  instance  is  a  pretty  wabbly  backing,  sir. 
I'm  afraid  that  even  my  loyal  boys  will  join  the  mob 
if  the  news  gets  out  about  those  election  returns  in 
certain  districts — the  returns  that  were  sent  back 
secretly  to  be  corrected." 

The  bomb  had  all  the  effect  that  Morrison  hoped 
for.  His  Excellency  slumped  back  in  his  chair  and 
"pittered"  his  lips  wordlessly. 

"I  don't  think  the  news  has  actually  got  out 
among  the  general  public,  but  it's  apt  to  leak  any 
minute,  sir.     You  can't  afford  to  take  chances." 

"Such  slander  is  preposterous!"  Corson  asserted. 
**What  used  to  be  done — reviving  old  stories — I  say 
that  our  party  will  not  lend  its  countenance  to  any 
such  tricks."  In  his  excitement  he  had  dropped  an 
admission  as  to  the  past  in  politics  while  offering  a 
disclaimer  as  to  the  present. 

"There's  no  time  now  for  any  political  discus- 
sions," retorted  Morrison,  curtly.     "It's  a  matter 

right  now  of  side-tracking  a  fight.     If  that  fight 

213 


All-Wool  Morrison 

comes  off,  Governor  North,  the  truth  will  come  out. 
And  you  can*t  point  to  a  principle  in  your  case  as  an 
excuse  for  bloodshed!" 

"If  a  mob  attacks  this  State  House  there's  got  to 
be  a  fight." 

**It  takes  two  to  make  a  fight,  sir.  Order  General 
Totten  to  march  his  troops  out  of  the  State  House. 
Machine-guns  and  all!  Tell  'em  to  go  home  and  go 
to  bed." 

That  audacious  advice  was  a  second  bomb! 

After  a  few  moments  Senator  Corson  leaped  out 
of  his  chair,  strode  across  the  room,  and  plucked  his 
coat  and  hat  from  the  divan.  "Come  along. 
Daunt!"  he  counseled,  his  voice  cracking  hoarsely. 

"Hold  on.  Senator!"  expostulated  the  Governor. 
"I  need  your  help!" 

"I  won't  allow  myself  to  be  mixed  into  this  mess. 
North.  I  can't  afford  to  help  shoulder  the  blame 
where  I  have  not  been  fully  informed.  And  I 
won't  allow  a  lunatic  to  endanger  my  life.  Come 
on,  Daunt,  I  tell  you!" 

"If  you're  bound  to  go,  I'll  go  along,  too,"  prof- 
fered the  Governor,  rising  hastily.  "This  thing  can 
be  handled.  It's  got  to  be  handled.  We'll  go  where 
this  infernal,  clattering  loom  from  St.  Ronan's  mill 
can't  break  up  a  gentlemen's  conference." 

Stewart  did  not  suggest  that  the  gentlemen  remain; 
nor  did  he  offer  to  go;  nor  did  he  plead  for  a  de- 
cision.    He  stood  quietly  and  watched  them  pull  on 

their  overcoats. 

214 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

The  Senator  led  the  retreat  toward  the  private 
door. 

Morrison  dropped  the  captured  bunch  of  keys  into 
his  pocket. 

RelHhan  held  his  club  horizontally  in  front  of  him 
with  both  hands. 

**Get  out  of  the  way!"  yelped  Corson. 

The  officer  shook  his  head. 

"General  Totten,  open  that  door." 

"No  chance!"  Rellihan  growled. 

North  wagged  his  way  close  to  the  barring  "  fender  " 
and  shook  an  admonitory  finger  under  the  police- 
man's nose.  "I'm  the  Governor  of  this  state!  I 
order  you  to  move  away  from  that  door." 

"I  can't  help  what  ye  are!  I'm  taking  me  orders 
on'y  fr'm  the  mayor  o'  Marion." 

"You  see,  gentlemen!"  suggested  Morrison.  "It 
looks  as  if  we'd  be  obliged  to  settle  our  business 
right  where  we  are — in  this  room.  Time  is  short. 
Won't  you  come  back  here  to  the  table?" 

There  was  absolute  silence  in  the  Executive 
Chamber — a  silence  that  continued.  The  digni- 
taries at  the  door  deigned  to  accord  to  Morrison 
neither  glance  nor  word;  they  would  not  indulge 
his  incredible  audacity  to  that  extent.  As  to  Relli- 
han, they  did  not  feel  like  stooping  so  low  as  to 
waste  words  on  the  impassive  giant  who  personified 
an  ignorant  insolence  that  made  no  account  of  per- 
sonalities.    They   adventured   in   no  move   against 

that   obstacle   in   their   path,   either   by   concerted 
15  215 


All-Wool  Morrison 

attack  or  individual  effort  to  pass.  They  looked 
like  wakened  sleepers  who  were  struggling  with  the 
problems  proposed  in  a  nightmare.  It  was  a  situa- 
tion which  seemed  beyond  solution  by  the  ordinary 
sensible  methods. 

After  a  time  Governor  North  voiced  in  a  coarse 
manner,  inadequately,  some  expression  of  the  emo- 
tion that  was  dominating  the  group.  "What  in 
hell  is  the  matter  with  us,  anyway?" 

Again  there  was  a  prolonged  silence. 

"Seeing  that  nobody  else  seems  to  want  to  express 
an  opinion  on  the  subject,  I'll  tell  you  what  the 
matter  is,  as  I  look  at  it,"  ventured  Stewart,  chattily 
matter-of-fact.  "We're  all  native-born  Americans 
in  this  room.  Right  down  deep  in  our  hearts  we're 
not  afraid  of  our  soldiers.  We  good-naturedly  in- 
dulge the  boys  when  they  are  called  on  to  exercise 
authority.  But  from  the  time  an  American  young- 
ster begins  to  steal  apples  and  junk  and  throw 
snowballs  and  break  windows  a  healthy  fear  of  a 
regular  cop  is  ingrained  in  him.  It's  a  fear  he 
doesn't  stop  to  analyze.  It's  just  there,  that's  all 
he  knows.  Even  a  perfectly  law-abiding  citizen 
walking  home  late  feels  a  little  tingle  of  anxiety  in 
him  when  he  marches  past  a  cop.  Puts  on  an  air  as 
much  as  to  say,  *I  hope  you  think  I'm  all  right, 
officer — tending  right  to  my  own  business!'  So,  in 
this  case,  it's  only  your  ingrained  American  nature 
talking  to  you,  gentlemen!  You're  all  right!  Noth- 
ing is  the  matter  with  you!     It  ought  to  please  you 

216 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

because  you  feel  that  way!  Proves  you  are  truly 
American.  'Don't  monkey  with  the  cop!*  Just  as 
long  as  we  obey  that  watchword  we've  got  a  good 
government!" 

Senator  Corson  was  more  infuriated  by  that  bland 
preachment  than  he  would  have  been  by  vitriolic 
insult.  While  he  marched  back  to  the  table  he 
prefaced  his  arraignment  of  Morrison  by  calling 
him  an  impudent  pup.  He  dwelt  on  that  subject 
with  all  his  power  of  invective  for  some  minutes. 

"I  agree  with  you,  Senator,"  admitted  Morrison 
when  Corson  stopped  to  gather  more  ammunition  of 
anathema.    "  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

/He  asked  the  same  question  after  the  Senator  had 
finished  a  statement  of  his  opinion  on  the  obstinacy 
of  the  lunkhead  at  the  door. 

The  Senator  kept  on  in  his  objurgation.  But 
whenever  he  looked  at  the  door  he  found  the  police- 
man there,  an  immovable  obstacle. 

Whenever  Corson  looked  at  Morrison  he  met 
everlastingly  that  hateful  query. 

Both  the  question  and  the  cop  were  impossible, 
impassable.  Corson  found  the  thing  too  out- 
rageously ridiculous  to  be  handled  by  sane  argu- 
ment; his  insanity  in  declamation  was  getting  him 
nowhere. 

"There's  only  one  subject  before  the  meeting,'* 

insisted   Stewart.     "We've  got  to  keep  this  state 

from  being   ashamed  of  itself  when   it  wakes   up 

to-morrow  morning!" 

217 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Somewhere,  in  some  hidden  place  In  the  room,  a 
subdued  buzzing  began  and  continued  persistently. 

The  understanding  that  passed  between  Corson 
and  North  in  the  glance  which  they  exchanged  was 
immediate  and  highly  informative,  even  had  the 
observer  been  obtuse.  But  in  that  crisis  Stewart 
Morrison  was  not  obtuse. 

Whether  it  was  deference,  one  to  the  other,  or 
caution  in  general  that  was  dominating  the  Senator 
and  the  Governor  was  not  clearly  revealed  by  their 
countenance.     At  any  rate,  they  made  no  move. 

"Pardon  me,  Senator  Corson,"  said  Stewart. 
"I'm  quite  sure  I  know  where  the  other  end  of  that 
telephone  line  Is.  I  think  your  daughter  Is  calling!" 
His  inquisitive  eyes  were  searching  the  walls  of  the 
chamber;  the  source  of  the  buzzing  was  not  easily 
to  be  located  by  the  sound. 

The  Governor  suddenly  dumped  himself  out  of  his 
chair  and  started  across  the  room. 

Morrison  strode  into  His  Excellency's  path  and 
extended  a  restraining  arm  that  was  as  authoritative 
as  Rellihan's  club.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  too, 
Governor!  But  that  call  is  undoubtedly  for  Senator 
Corson.  I  happen  to  know  quite  a  lot  about  the 
conveniences  in  his  residence!" 

"And  all  the  evening  you  have  been  using  that 
knowledge  to  help  you  in  violating  my  hospitality! 
Morrison,  you're  not  much  else  than  a  sneak!" 
affirmed  Corson. 

The  Governor  struck  his  fist  against  the  rigid 

218 


The  Impending  Shame  of  a  State 

arm  and  spat  an  oath  in  Mornson*s  face.  "Get  out 
of  my  way!  I'm  in  my  own  office — I'll  tend  to  that 
call!" 

"No,  you'll  not!"  was  Morrison's  quick  rejoinder. 
"Senator  Corson,  if  you  want  to  inform  your  daugh- 
ter that  you're  all  safe — if  you  want  to  ask  her  not  to 
worry,  you'd  better  answer.  But  I  must  insist  that 
a  private  line  shall  not  be  used  to  convey  out  of  this 
room  any  of  our  public  business  i" 

Corson  then  became  the  only  moving  figure  in  the 
tableau;  he  went  to  the  wall,  pushed  aside  a  huge 
frame  which  held  the  state's  coat  of  arms,  and 
pulled  from  a  niche  a  telephone  on  an  extension 
arm.  He  proceeded  to  display  his  utter  contempt 
for  commands  issuing  from  the  absurd  interloper 
who  was  presuming  in  such  dictation  to  dignity 

"Yes!  Lana!  Call  High-sherifF  Dalton!  As 
quickly  as  possible!  Tell  him  to  secure  a  posse. 
Tell  him  I'm  in  the  State  House,  threatened  by  a 
lunatic.     Tell  him — " 

By  that  time  Morrison  was  at  Corson's  side  and 
was  wresting  the  instrument  from  the  wall.  He 
broke  oflP  the  arm  and  the  wires  and  flung  them 
across  the  room. 

"There's  fight  enough  on  the  docket,  as  the  thing 
stands,  without  calling  in  another  bunch  to  make  it 
three-sided,  sir!  Rellihan,  open  the  door  for  Mac 
Tavish!  Andy,  run  to  the  public  booth  in  the 
corridor  and  call  Dalton  and  tell  him  to  pay  no  at- 
tention  to   any   hullabaloo   by   hysterical   women. 

219 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Tell  him  I  said  so!  Ask  him  to  keep  that  to  himself. 
And  rush  back!" 

He  turned  on  the  Senator  and  the  Governor. 

There  was  no  longer  apology  or  compromise  in  the 
demeanor  of  the  mayor  of  Marion.  "I  know  I'm 
a  rank  outsider!  You  needn't  try  to  tell  me  what  I 
know  myself.  I  didn't  think  I'd  need  to  be  so  rank! 
But  I'm  just  what  you're  forcing  me  to  be.  I  have 
jumped  in  here  to  stop  something  that  there's  no 
more  sense  in  than  there  is  in  a  dog-fight.  They 
may  fight  in  spite  of  all  I  can  do!  But,  by  the  gods! 
I'm  not  going  to  stand  by  and  see  men  like  you  rub 
their  ears!  Senator  Corson,  I  advise  you  and  Gov- 
ernor North  to  go  and  sit  down.  You're  only 
making  spectacles  of  yourselves!" 


XV 

TEE   BOSS   OF  THE  JOB 

AFTER  Senator  Corson  had  recovered  his  poise 
■^*'  his  dignity  asserted  itself  and  he  sat  down  and 
assumed  an  attitude  that  suggested  the  frigidity  of 
a  statue  on  an  ice-cake.  He  checked  Governor 
North  with  an  impatient  flap  of  the  hand.  "You 
have  had  your  innings  as  a  manager,  North!" 

He  proceeded  frostily  with  Morrison.  "There 
was  never  a  situation  in  state  history  like  this  one 
you  have  precipitated,  sir,  and  if  I  have  made  an 
ass  of  myself  I  was  copying  current  manners." 

"It  is  a  strange  situation,  I'll  admit.  Senator," 
Morrison  agreed. 

"As  a  newsmonger,  you  say,  do  you,  that  minutes 
are  valuable?" 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"Well,  we'd  better  find  out  how  valuable  they  are. 
Will  you  send  General  Totten  below  to  investigate  ? " 

Morrison  surveyed  appraisingly  the  panoplied 
adjutant-general.  "I'd  never  think  of  making 
General  Totten  an  errand-boy,  sir,  if  I'm  to  imply 
that  I  have  any  say  in  affairs  just  now." 

"You    have    assumed    all    say!    You    have    put 


All-Wool  Morrison 

gentlemen  in  a  position  where  they  can't  help  them- 
selves." The  Senator  scowled  in  the  direction  of 
Rellihan.  But  Rellihan  did  not  mind;  right  then 
he  was  opening  the  door  to  the  returning  Mac  Tavish. 

*'I  routed  Mac  Tavish  out  of  bed  and  brought  him 
along  to  attend  to  errands.  He  will  go  and  see  how 
matters  are  below,  and  outside,"  proffered  Morrison, 
courteously. 

The  self-appointed  manager  gave  Mac  Tavish  his 
new  orders  and  added:  "Inquire,  please,  if  any  tele- 
grams have  arrived  for  me.     I'm  expecting  some." 

Rellihan  again  deferentially  opened  the  door  for 
the  messenger  of  the  mayor  of  Marion;  Mac  Tavish 
had  knocked  and  given  his  name.  "It's  all  richt, 
sir!"  he  had  reported  on  his  arrival  from  his  mission 
to  the  telephone. 

The  exasperated  Governor  viewed  that  free  in- 
gress and  muttered. 

Mac  Tavish's  unimpeded  egress  on  the  second 
errand  provoked  the  Governor  more  acutely. 

"Morrison,  I'm  now  talking  strictly  for  myself," 
went  on  the  Senator.  "I  shall  use  plain  words. 
By  your  attitude  you  directly  accuse  me  of  being  a 
renegade  in  politics.  To  all  intents  and  purposes  I 
am  under  arrest,  as  a  person  dangerous  to  be  at 
large  in  the  affairs  that  are  pressing." 

"Senator  Corson,  I  don't  believe  you  ever  did  a 
deliberately  wrong  or  wicked  thing  in  your  life,  as  an 
individual." 

"I  thank  you!" 


The  Boss  of  the  Job 

"  But  deliberately  political  methods  can  be  wicked 
in  their  general  results,  even  if  those  methods  are 
sanctioned  by  usage.  It's  wicked  to  start  a  fight 
here  to-night  by  allowing  political  misunderstandings 
to  play  fast  and  loose  with  the  people." 

"You're  a  confounded  imbecile,  that's  what  you 
are,"  shouted  Governor  North. 

The  mayor  turned  on  him.  "Replying  in  the 
same  sort  of  language,  so  that  you  may  understand 
right  where  you  and  I  get  off  in  our  relations,  I'll 
tell  you  that  you're  the  kind  of  man  who  would  use 
grandmothers  in  a  matched  fight  to  settle  a  political 
grudge — if  the  other  fellow  had  a  grandmother  and 
you  could  borrow  one.  Now  let  me  alone,  sir!  I 
am  talking  with  Senator  Corson!" 

The  Senator  squelched  the  Governor  with  another 
gesture.  "We  have  our  laws,  Morrison.  We  must 
abide  by  'em.  And  the  political  game  must  be 
played  according  to  the  law." 

"I  think  I  have  already  expressed  my  opinion  to 
you  about  that  game,  sir.  I'll  say  again  that  in 
this  country  politics  is  no  longer  a  mere  game  to  be 
played  for  party  advantage  and  the  aggrandizement 
of  individuals.  The  folks  won't  stand  for  that  stuff 
any  longer." 

"I  think  you  and  North,  both  of  you,  are  over- 
excited. You're  going  off  half  cocked.  You  are 
exaggerating  a  tempest  in  a  teapot." 

"If  every  community  in  this  country  gets  right 
down  to  business  and  stops  the  teapot  tempests  by 

223 


All-Wool  Morrison 

good  sense  in  handling  them  when  they  start,  we'll 
be  able  to  prevent  a  general  tornado  that  may  sweep 
us  all  to  Tophet,  Senator  Corson." 

"Legislation  on  broad  lines  will  remedy  our 
troubles.  We  are  busy  in  Washington  on  such 
matters." 

"Good  luck  to  the  cure-all,  sir!  But  in  the  mean 
time  we  need  specific  doses,  right  at  home,  in  every 
community,  early  and  often.  That's  what  we  ought 
to  be  tending  to  to-night,  here  in  Marion.  If  every 
city  and  town  does  the  same  thing,  the  country  at 
large  won't  have  to  worry." 

Senator  Corson  kept  his  anxious  gaze  on  the  pri- 
vate door.  "Well,  let's  have  it,  Morrison!  You 
seem  to  be  bossing  matters,  just  as  you  threatened 
to  do.     What's  your  dose  in  this  case?" 

"I  wasn't  threatening!     I  was  promising." 

"Promising  what?" 

"That  the  people  would  get  a  square  deal  in  this 
legislative  matter." 

"You  don't  underrate  your  abilities,  I  note!" 

"Oh,  I  was  not  promising  to  do  it  myself.  I 
have  no  power  in  state  politics.  I  was  promising 
that  Governor  North  and  his  Executive  Councilors 
who  canvassed  the  election  returns  would  give  the 
folks  a  square  deal." 

In  his  rage  the  Governor,  defying  such  presumptu- 
ous interference,  was  not  fortunate  in  phrasing  his 
declaration  that  Morrison  had  no  right  to  promise 

any  such  thing. 

224 


The  Boss  of  the  Job 

The  big  millman  surveyed  His  Excellency  with  a 
whimsical  expression  of  distress.  **Why,  I  sup- 
posed I  had  the  right  to  promise  that  much  on  behalf 
of  our  Chief  Executive.  You  aren't  going  to  deny 
*em  a  square  deal — you  don't  mean  that,  do  you,  sir?" 

"Confound  your  impudence,  you  have  no  right 
to  twist  my  meaning.  I'm  going  by  the  law — 
strictly  by  the  statutes!  The  question  will  be  put 
up  to  the  court." 

"Certainly!"  affirmed  Senator  Corson.  "It  must 
go  to  the  court." 

Just  then  Rellihan  slammed  the  private  door  with 
a  sort  of  official  violence. 

Mac  Tavish  had  entered.  He  marched  straight 
to  Morrison  with  the  stiff  jerkiness  of  an  automaton. 
He  carried  a  sealed  telegram  and  held  it  as  far  in 
front  of  himself  as  possible.  Stewart  seized  upon 
it  and  tore  the  envelope.  "I'm  glad  to  hear  you 
say  that  about  the  court,  gentlemen.  I  have  taken 
a  liberty  this  evening.  Will  you  please  wait  a 
moment  while  I  glance  at  this?" 

It  was  plainly,  so  his  manner  indicated,  something 
that  had  a  bearing  on  the  issue.  They  leaned  for- 
ward and  attended  eagerly  on  him  when  he  began 
to  read  aloud: 

"  My  opinion  hastily  given  for  use  if  emergency  is  such  as 
you  mention  is  that  mere  technicalities,  clerical  errors  that  can 
be  shown  to  be  such  or  minor  irregularities  should  not  be 
allowed  to  negative  will  of  voter  when  same  has  been  shown 
beyond  reasonable  doubt.  Signed,  Davenport,  Judge  Supreme 
Judicial  Court." 

225 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Morrison  waited  a  few  moments,  gazing  from  face 
to  face.  Then  he  leaned  across  the  table  and  gave 
the  telegram  into  the  hands  of  Miss  Bunker.  "Make 
it  a  part  of  the  record,  please,"  he  directed. 

"Well,  I'll  be  eternally  condemned!'*  roared  the 
Governor.  "You're  a  rank  outsider.  You  don't  know 
what  you're  talking  about.  How  do  you  dare  to  in- 
volve the  judges?  They  don't  know  what  they're 
talking  about,  either,  on  a  point  of  law,  in  this  case.'* 

"Perhaps  Judge  Davenport  isn't  talking  law, 
wholly,  in  that  telegram.  He  may  be  saying  a  word 
as  an  honest  man  who  doesn't  want  to  see  his  state 
disgraced  by  riot  and  bloodshed  to-night."  The 
mayor  addressed  Mac  Tavish  with  eager  emphasis. 
"What  do  you  find  down  below,  Andy?" 

"Nae  pairticular  pother  withindoors.  Muckle 
powwow  wi'out,"  reported  the  old  man,  tersely. 

"Then  you  got  a  look  outside?" 

"Ay^e!  When  I  took  the  message  frae  the  tele- 
graph laddie  at  the  door." 

"Was  Joe  Lanigan  in  sight?" 

"Aye!" 

"It's  all  right  so  far,  gentlemen,"  the  mayor  as- 
sured his  involuntary  conferees.  "Joe  is  on  the  job 
with  his  American  Legion  boys,  as  he  promised  me 
he'd  be.  Now  I'm  going  to  be  perfectly  frank  and 
inform  you  that  I  have  made  a  promise  of  my  own 
in  this  case.  I  haven't  meant  to  be  presumptuous. 
I  don't  want  you  to  feel  that  I've  got  a  swelled  head. 

I'm  merely  trying  to  keep  my  word  and  carry  out  a 

226 


The  Boss  of  the  Job 

contract  on  a  business  oasis.  It's  only  a  matter  of 
starting  right;   then  everything  can  be  kept  right.'* 

He  whirled  on  Mac  Tavish.  "Trot  down  again, 
Andy.  I'm  expecting  more  messages.  And  keep  us 
posted  on  happenings!" 

"Are  such  humble  persons  as  North  and  I  are 
entitled  to  be  let  in  on  any  details  of  your  contract. 
Mister  Boss-in-Chief .? "  inquired  the  Senator. 

"I  think  the  main  contract  is  your  ov/n,  sir — yours 
and  the  Governor's.  I  don't  like  to  seem  too  for- 
ward in  suggesting  what  it  is." 

"Nothing  you  can  say  or  do  from  now  on  will  seem 
forward,  Morrison.  Even  if  you  should  order  that 
Hereford  steer,  therev  at  the  door,  to  bang  us  over 
our  heads  with  his  shillalah,  it  would  seem  merely 
like  an  anticlimax,  matched  with  the  rest  of  your 
cheek!     What's  the  contract?" 

"You  and  N  rth  stated  the  terms  of  it,  yourselves, 
when  you  were  campaigning  last  election.  You  said 
that  if  you  were  elected  you'd  be  the  servants  of  the 
people." 

"What  in  the  devil  do  you  claim  we  are  now?'* 

"I  make  no  assertion.     But  when  I  was  down 

with  the  bunch  this  evening  I  was  able  to  get  into 

the  spirit  of  the  crowd.     I  found  myself,  feeling,  just 

as  they  said  they  felt,  that  it's  a  queer  state  of  affairs 

when  servants  barricade  themselves  in  a  master's 

castle  and  use  other  paid  servants  to  threaten  with 

rifles  and  machine-guns  when  the  master  demands 

entry." 

227 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Fd  be  carrying  out  my  contract,  would  I,  by 
disbanding  that  militia  and  opening  this  State  House 
to  the  mob?"  demanded  North. 

"This  is  a  peculiar  emergency,  sir,"  Morrison 
msisted.  "Outside  are  massing  all  the  elements  of 
a  know-nothing,  rough-house  melee.  Even  the 
Legion  boys  don't  know  just  where  they're  at  till 
there's  a  showdown.  I  can  depend  on  'em  right  now 
while  they're  waiting  for  that  showdown.  They'll 
fight  their  finger-nails  off  to  hold  the  plain  rowdies  in 
line.  Such  boys  have  been  showing  their  mettle  in 
one  city  in  this  country,  haven't  they  ?  But  a  mere 
licking,  no  matter  which  side  wins,  doesn't  last  long 
enough  for  any  general  good  unless  the  licking  is 
based  on  principle  and  the  principle  is  thereby 
established  as  right!  Now  let  me  tell  you,  Governor 
North.  You  can't  fool  those  Legion  boys  outside. 
They  have  come  home  with  new  conceptions  of 
what  is  a  square  deal.  They're  plumb  on  to  the  old- 
fashioned  tricks  in  cheap  politics.  They're  not  let- 
ting oflSceholders  play  checkers  with  'em  any  longer. 

"Governor — and    you,    Senator    Corson — this    is 

now    a    question    of   to-night — an    emergency — an 

exigency!     I  have  told  those  boys  that  they  will  be 

shown!    You've  got  to  show  'em.     Show  'em  that 

this  State  House  is  always  open  to  decent  citizens. 

Show  'em   that   you,   as   ofiiceholders,   don't  need 

machine-guns  to  back  you  up  in  your  stand."     He 

emphasized  each  declaration  by  a  resounding  thump 

of  his  fist  on  the  table.     "  Show  'em  that  it's  a  square 

228 


The  Boss  of  the  Job 

deal,  and  that  your  cufFs  are  rolled  up  when  you  deal! 
Show  'em  that  you're  not  bluffing  honestly  elected 
members  of  this  incoming  legislature  out  of  their 
seats  by  closing  the  doors  on  'em  to-morrow.  That's 
your  contract!    Are  you  going  to  keep  it?" 

Mac  Tavish  returned.  He  brought  another  tele- 
gram. 

Morrison  ripped  the  inclosure  from  the  envelope. 

"It's  of  the  same  purport  as  the  other,"  he  re- 
ported. "Signed,  *Madigan,  Justice  Supreme  Ju- 
dicial Court.'  Back  to  the  door,  Mac  Tavish. 
Here,  Miss  Bunker,  insert  this  in  the  record." 

"This  is  simply  preposterous!"  exploded  the 
Senator. 

"Rather  irregular,  certainly,"  Stewart  confessed. 
"But  I  didn't  ask  'em  for  red  tape!  I  asked  'em  for 
quick  action  to  prevent  bloodshed!" 

Senator  Corson's  fresh  fury  did  not  allow  him  to 
reason  with  himself  or  argue  with  this  interloper, 
this  lunatic  who  was  flailing  about  in  that  sanctuary 
of  vested  authority,  knocking  down  hallowed  pro- 
cedure, sacred  precedents — all  the  gods  of  the  fane! 

"Morrison,  no  such  an  outrage  as  this  was  ever 
perpetrated  in  American  politics!" 

"It  surely  does  seem  to  be  a  new  wrinkle.  Senator! 
I'll  confess  that  I  don't  know  much  about  politics. 
It's  all  new  to  me.  I  apologize  for  the  mistakes  I'm 
making.  Probably  I'll  know  more  when  I've  been 
in  politics  a  little  longer." 

"You  will,  sir!" 

229 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Governor  North  agreed  with  that  dictum,  heartily, 
irefully. 

"I  do  seem  to  be  finding  out  new  things  every 
minute  or  so,"  went  on  Stewart,  making  the  agree- 
ment unanimous.  "Taking  your  opinion  as  experts, 
perhaps  I  may  quahfy  as  an  expert,  too,  before  the 
evening  is  over." 

"Where  is  this  infernal  folly  of  yours  heading 
you?"  Corson  permitted  his  wrath  to  dominate  him 
still  farther.    He  shook  his  fist  under  Morrison's  nose. 

"Straight  toward  a  Bright  Light,  Senator!  I'm 
putting  no  name  on  it.  But  I'm  keeping  my  eyes 
on  it.  And  I  can't  stop  to  notice  what  I'm  knocking 
down  or  whose  feet  I'm  treading  on." 

The  Senator  went  to  Governor  North  and  struck 
his  fist  down  on  His  Excellency's  shoulder.  "I've 
been  having  some  doubts  about  your  methods,  sir, 
but  now  I'm  with  you,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  to  save 
this  situation.  Pay  no  attention  to  those  telegrams. 
There's  no  teUing  what  that  idiot  has  wired  to  the 
justices.  This  man  has  not  an  atom  of  authority. 
You  cannot  legally  share  your  authority  with  him. 
To  defer  to  one  of  his  demands  will  be  breaking 
your  oath  to  preserve  order  and  protect  state 
property." 

"Exactly!  I  don't  need  that  advice,  Corson,  but 
I  do  need  your  support.  I  shall  go  ahead  strictly 
according  to  the  constitution  and  the  statutes." 

"I   am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that.  Governor,'* 

stated  Morrison. 

i30 


The  Boss  of  the  Job 

"Did  you  expect  that  I  was  going  to  join  you  and 
your  mob  of  lawbreakers?" 

"Your  explicit  statement  pleases  me,  I  say.  Shall 
you  follow  the  constitution  absolutely,  in  every 
detail?" 

"Absolutely!     In  every  detail." 

"Right  down  to  the  last  technical  letter  of  it?" 

"Good  gad!  what  do  vou  mean  by  asking  me  such 
fool  questions?" 

"I'm  getting  a  direct  statement  from  you  on 
the  point.  For  the  record!"  He  pointed  to  the 
stenographer. 

"I  shall  observe  the  constitution  of  this  state  to 
the  last  letter  of  it,  absolutely,  undeviatingly.  And 
now,  as  Governor  of  this  state,  I  shall  proceed  to 
exert  my  authority.  Put  that  statement  in  the 
record!  I  order  you  to  leave  the  State  House  im- 
mediately. Record  that,  too!  Otherwise  I  shall 
prefer  charges  before  the  courts  that  will  put  you  in 
state  prison,  Morrison!" 

"Do  you  know  exactly  the  provisions  of  the  con- 
stitution relating  to  your  office,  sir?" 

"I  do." 

"  Don't  you  realize  that,  according  to  the  technical 
stand  you  take,  you  have  no  more  official  right  in 
this  Capitol  than  I  have,  just  now?" 

His  Excellency's  silence,  his  stupefaction,  sug- 
gested that  his  convictions  as  to  Morrison's  lunacy 
were  finally  clinched. 

"The  constitution,  that  you  have  invoked,  ex- 
16  231 


All-Wool  Morrison 

pressly  provides  that  a  Governor's  term  of  office 
expires  at  midnight,  on  the  day  preceding  the  as- 
sembling of  the  first  session  of  the  legislature.  You 
will  be  Governor  in  the  morning  at  ten-thirty  o'clock, 
when  you  take  your  oath  before  the  joint  session. 
But  by  your  own  clock  up  there  you  ceased  to  be 
Governor  of  this  state  five  minutes  ago!"  Mor- 
rison drawled  that  statement  in  a  very  placid 
manner.  His  forefinger  pointed  to  the  clock  on  the 
wall  of  the  Executive  Chamber. 

Governor  North  did  know  the  constitution,  even 
if  he  did  not  know  the  time  o'  night  until  his  atten- 
tion had  been  drawn  to  it.  He  was  disconcerted 
only  for  a  moment;  then  he  snorted  his  disgust, 
roused  by  this  attempt  of  a  tyro  to  read  him  a 
lesson  in  law. 

Senator  Corson  expressed  himself.  "  Don't  bother 
us  with  such  nonsense!  Such  a  ridiculous  point  has 
never  been  raised." 

"But  this  is  a  night  of  new  wrinkles,  as  we 
have  already  agreed,"  insisted  the  mayor  of 
Marion.  "I'm  right  along  with  the  Governor, 
neck  and  neck,  in  his  observance  of  the  letter  of 
the  law." 

"Well,  then,  we'll  stick  to  the  letter,"  snapped 
His  Excellency.  "I  have  declared  this  State  House 
under  martial  law.  The  adjutant-general,  here, 
is  in  command  of  the  troops  and  the  situation." 

"I'm  glad  to  know  that.     I'll  talk  with  General 

Totten  in  a  moment!'* 

232 


The  Boss  of  the  Job 

Again  Mac  Tavish  came  trotting  past  Rellihan. 

Morrison  snatched  away  the  telegram  that  his 
agent  proffered;  but  the  master  demanded  news 
before  proceeding  to  open  the  missive. 

"There's  summat  in  the  air,"  reported  Andrew. 
"Much  blust'ring;  the  square  is  crowded!  Whilst  I 
was  signing  the  laddie's  book  Lanigan  cried  me  the 
word  for  ye  to  look  sharp  and  keep  the  promise,  else 
he  wouldna  answer  for  a*!" 

"Gentlemen,  I'll  let  you  construe  your  own  con- 
tracts according  to  your  consciences.  I  have  one 
of  my  own  to  carry  out.  Mac  Tavish  has  just 
handed  me  a  jolt  on  it! 

"Governor  North,  seeing  that  your  contract  with 
the  state  is  temporarily  suspended,  I  suppose  we'll 
have  to  excuse  you  to  some  extent,  after  all!  Mac 
Tavish,  step  here,  close  to  me!" 

The  old  man  obeyed;  the  two  stood  in  the  full 
glare  of  the  chandelier. 

Stewart  held  up  his  right  hand.  "You're  a  no- 
tary public,  Andrew.  Administer  an  oath!  Like 
that  one  you  administered  to  me  when  I  was  sworn 
in  as  mayor  of  Marion.  You  can  remember  the  gist 
of  it." 

"In  what  capaceety  do  you  serve.  Master  Mor- 
rison?" inquired  Mac  Tavish,  stolidly. 

Stewart  hesitated  a  moment,  taking  thought. 
"Fm  going  to  volunteer  as  a  sort  of  an  Executive, 
gentlemen,'*  he  explained,  deferentially.  "The  exi- 
gency seems  to  need  one.     I  have  heard  that  a  good 

233 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Executive  is  one  who  acts  quickly  and  is  right — part 
of  the  time!  I'm  indebted  to  Senator  Corson  for  a 
suggestion  he  made  a  little  while  ago.  I  think,  Mac 
Tavish,  you'd  better  swear  me  in  as  Boss  of  the 
Job." 


XVI 

THE   CITY  OF  MARION   SEEKS   ITS  MAYOR 

/"^AIETY'S  glaring  brilliancy  on  Corson  Hill  had 
^^  been  effectually  snuffed  by  the  onslaught  of 
the  mob.  The  mansion  hid  its  lights  behind  shades 
and  shutters.  The  men  of  the  orchestra  had  packed 
their  instruments;  the  dismayed  guests  put  on  their 
wraps  and  called  for  their  carriages. 

In  the  place  of  lilting  violins  and  merry  tongues, 
hammers  clattered  and  saws  rasped;  the  servants 
were  boarding  up  the  broken  windows. 

Lana  Corson,  closeted  with  Mrs.  Stanton,  found 
the  discord  below-stairs  peculiarly  hateful;  it  sug- 
gested so  much,  replacing  the  music. 

The  rude  hand  of  circumstance  had  been  laid  so 
suddenly  on  the  melody  of  life! 

"And  I'll  say  again — "  pursued  Mrs.  Stanton, 
breaking  a  silence  that  had  lain  between  the  two. 

"Don't  say  it  again!  Don't!  Don't!"  It  was 
indignant  expostulation  instead  of  supplication  and 
the  matron  instantly  exhibited  relief. 

"Thank  goodness,  Lana!  Your  symptoms  are 
fine!    You're  past  the  crisis  and  are  on  the  mend. 

235 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Get  angrier!  Stay  angry!  It's  a  healthy  sign  in 
any  woman  recovering  from  such  a  relapse  as  has 
been  threatening  you  since  you  came  back  home." 

"Will  you  not  drop  the  topic?"  demanded  Miss 
Corson,  with  as  much  menace  as  a  maiden  could 
display  by  tone  and  demeanor. 

"As  your  nurse  in  this  period  of  convalescence," 
insisted  the  imperturbable  lady,  "I  find  your  tem- 
perature encouraging.  The  higher  the  better,  in  a 
case  like  this!  But  I'd  like  to  register  on  your 
chart  a  hard-and-fast  declaration  from  you  that 
you'll  never  again  expose  yourself  to  infection  from 
the  same  quarter!" 

Lana  did  not  make  that  declaration;  she  did  not 
reply  to  her  friend. 

The  two  were  in  the  Senator's  study.  Lana  had 
led  the  retreat  to  that  apartment;  its  wainscoted 
walls  and  heavy  door  shut  out  in  some  measure  the 
racket  of  hammers  and  saws. 

She  walked  to  the  window  and  pulled  aside  the 
curtain  and  looked  out  into  the  night. 

Between  Corson  Hill  and  Capitol  Hill,  in  the  broad 
bowl  of  a  valley,  most  of  the  structures  of  the  city 
of  Marion  were  nested.  The  State  House  loomed 
darkly  against  the  radiance  of  the  winter  sky. 

She  was  still  wondering  what  that  blood-stained 
intruder  had  meant  when  he  declaimed  about  the 
job  waiting  on  Capitol  Hill,  and  she  found  disquieting 
suggestiveness  in  the  gloom  which  wrapped  the  dis- 
tant State  House.     Even  the  calm  in  the  neighbor- 

236 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor  * 

hood  of  the  Corson  mansion  troubled  her;  the  scene 
of  the  drama,  whatever  it  was  all  about,  had  been 
shifted;  the  talk  of  men  had  been  of  prospective 
happenings  at  the  State  House,  and  that  talk  was 
ominous.  Her  father  was  there.  She  was  fighting 
an  impulse  to  hasten  to  the  Capitol  and  she  assured 
herself  that  the  impulse  was  wholly  concerned  with 
her  father. 

"I'll  admit  that  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long, 
long  thoughts,  just  as  that  poet  has  said  they  are," 
Mrs.  Stanton  went  on,  one  topic  engrossing  her. 
"But  I'm  assuming  that  there's  an  end  to  'em,  just 
as  there  is  to  the  much-talked-of  long  lane.  In 
poems  there's  a  lot  of  nonsense  about  marrying  one's 
own  first  love — and  I  suppose  the  thing  is  done, 
sometimes.  Yes,  I'm  quite  sure  of  it,  because  it's 
written  up  so  often  in  the  divorce  cases.  If  I  had 
married  any  one  of  the  first  five  fellows  I  was  engaged 
to,  probably  my  own  case  would  have  been  on 
record  in  the  newspapers  before  this.  Lana  dear, 
why  don't  you  come  here  and  sit  down  and  confide 
in  a  friend  and  assure  her  that  you're  safe  and  sane 
from  now  on.^"' 

Miss  Corson,  as  if  suddenly  made  aware  that  some- 
body in  the  room  was  talking,  snapped  herself  'bout 
face. 

"Doris,  what  are  you  saying  to  me?" 

"I'm  giving  you  a  little  soothing  dissertation 
on  love — the  right  kind  of  love — the  sensible 
kind—" 

237 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"How  do  you  dare  to  annoy  me  with  such  silliness 
in  a  time  like  this  ? " 

"Why,  because  this  is  just  the  right  moment  for 
you  to  tell  me  that  you  are  forever  done  with  the 
silly  kind  of  love.  Mushy  boy-and-girl  love  is 
wholly  made  up  of  illusions.  This  Morrison  man 
isn't  leaving  you  any  illusions  in  regard  to  himself, 
is  he?" 

Miss  Corson  came  away  from  the  window  with  a 
rush;  her  cheeks  were  danger-flags.  "You  seem  to 
be  absolutely  determined  to  drive  me  to  say  some- 
thing dreadful  to  you,  Doris!  I've  been  trying  so 
hard  to  remember  that  you're  my  guest." 

"Your  friend,  you  mean!'* 

"You  listen  to  me!  I'm  making  my  own  declara- 
tions to  myself  about  the  men  in  this  world — the 
ones  I  know.  If  I  should  say  out  loud  what  I  think 
of  them — or  if  I  should  say  what  I  think  of  friends 
who  meddle  and  maunder  on  about  love — love — I'd 
be  ashamed  if  I  were  overheard.  Now  not  another 
word,  Doris  Stanton!"  She  stamped  her  foot  and 
beat  her  hand  hard  on  the  table  in  a  manner  that 
smacked  considerably  of  the  Senator's  violence  when 
his  emotions  were  stirred.  "I'm  ashamed  of  myself 
for  acting  like  this.  I  hate  such  displays!  But  I 
mean  to  protect  myself.  And  now  keep  quiet,  if  you 
please.  I  have  something  of  real  importance  to 
attend  to,  even  if  you  haven't." 

She  went  to  a  niche  in  the  wall  and  pulled  out  the 

private   telephone   instrument;    the   pressure   of  a 

238 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

button  was  required  to  put  in  a  call.  After  the  pro- 
longed wait,  Senator  Corson's  voice  sounded,  high- 
pitched,  urgent.     His  appeal  was  broken  short  off. 

Lana  stared  at  Mrs.  Stanton  while  making  futile 
efforts  to  get  a  reply  to  frantic  questions;  fear  paled 
the  girl's  face  and  widened  her  eyes. 

"What  has  happened,  Lana.?" 

"It's  father!  He  asked  for  help!  It's  something 
— some  danger — something  dreadful."  She  clung 
to  the  telephone  for  several  minutes,  demanding, 
listening,  hoping  for  further  words — ^the  completion 
of  his  orders  to  her. 

Then,  abandoning  her  efforts,  she  made  haste  to 
call  the  sheriff  of  the  county,  using  the  study  ex- 
tension of  the  regular  telephone. 

The  customary  rattle  informed  her  that  the  line 
was  in  use,  after  she  had  called  for  the  number,  look- 
ing it  up  in  the  directory.  When  she  finally  did  suc- 
ceed in  getting  the  ear  of  the  sheriff  she  was  informed 
in  placatory  orotund  by  that  official  that  all  her 
fears  were  groundless.  "I  have  been  talking  with 
the  State  House  just  before  you  called  me.  Miss 
Corson.  I  am  assured  on  the  best  of  authority 
that  everything  is  all  right,  there."  He  was  plainly 
indulging  what  he  accepted  as  the  vagaries  of  hys- 
teria— having  been  apprised  by  the  matter-of-fact 
Mac  Tavish  that  some  nonsensical  news  might  come 
through  an  excited  female.  "I  think  you  must  have 
misconstrued  what  your  father  said.     My  informant 

is  known  to  me  as  reliable.     Oh  no.  Miss  Corson,  I 

239 


All-Wool  Morrison 

cannot  give  you  his  name.  It's  a  rule  of  the  sheriff's 
office  that  individuals  who  give  information  have 
their  identities  respected.  If  the  Senator  is  at  the 
State  House  you  can  undoubtedly  reach  him  by 
'phone  in  the  Executive  Chamber."  He  placidly 
bade  her  good  night. 

But  Mis^  Corson  was  unable  to  communicate  with 
the  Executive  Chamber. 

After  many  delays  she  was  informed  that  central 
had  tried  repeatedly  and  directly  through  the  State 
House  exchange,  as  was  the  custom  after  the  de- 
parture of  the  exchange  operators  for  the  night; 
central  officially  reported,  "Line  out  of  order." 

During  her  efforts  to  communicate,  Coventry 
Daunt  hastened  into  the  study;  he  had  tapped  and 
he  obeyed  his  sister's  admonition,  "Come  in!" 

"I  tell  you  something  terrible  is  the  matter," 
Lana  declared,  giving  up  her  efforts  to  get  news  over 
the  wire.  "Coventry,  your  looks  tell  me  that  you 
have  heard  bad  news  of  some  sort!" 

"I  don't  want  to  be  an  alarmist,"  admitted  young 
Daunt,  "but  all  sorts  of  whip-whap  stuff  seem  to  be 
in  the  air  all  of  a  sudden.  I  just  took  a  run  down  to 
the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  bees  are  buzzing  a  little 
livelier  there  than  they  are  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  house.  Up  here  some  soldier  boys  are  waving 
their  bayonets  and  fat  cops  are  swinging  clubs. 
We're  all  right,  ladies,  but  there  are  all  sorts  of 
stories  about  what's  likely  to  happen  up  at  the  State 

House.     I've  come  to  tell  you  that  if  you  can  do 

240 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

without  me  I  think  I'll  take  a  swing  over  to  Capitol 
Hill.  I  don't  want  to  miss  anything  good,  and  I'll 
bring  back  straight  news." 

"I  can't  endure  to  wait  here  for  news,  Coventry," 
Lana  said.     "Order  the  car;  I'll  go  along  with  you." 

"It's  absolute  folly!"  declared  Mrs.  Stanton, 
aghast.  "Haven't  you  had  enough  experience  with 
mobs  for  one  evening?" 

"I  am  going  to  my  father,  mobs  or  no  mobs!  I 
know  his  voice  and  I  know  he's  in  trouble,  no  matter 
what  that  idiot  of  a  sheriff  tells  me."  She  hurried 
to  the  door.  "Order  the  car,  I  say!  I'll  get  my 
wraps." 

Mrs.  Stanton  divided  rueful  gaze  between  her 
own  evening  gown  and  Lana's.  "Are  you  going  with 
that  dress  on  ? " 

"I  certainly  am!"  Lana  called  from  the  corridor, 
running  toward  her  apartments. 

"Well,"  Mrs.  Stanton  informed  her  brother,  "this 
gown  has  served  me  all  evening  during  the  political 
rally  that  somebody  tried  to  pass  off  as  a  reception. 
Probably  it  will  do  very  well  for  the  mob-affair. 
I'll  go  for  my  furs." 

"That's  a  brick!"  was  her  brother's  indorsement. 
"She  needs  us  both.  But  don't  be  frightened,  sis! 
It's  only  a  political  flurry,  and  such  fusses  are  usually 
more  fizz  than  fight.  I'll  have  the  car  around  to  the 
door  in  a  jab  of  a  jiffy!" 

By  the  time  the  limousine  swung  under  the  porte- 
cochere  Lana  was  down  and  waiting;   Mrs.  Stanton 

241 


All-Wool  Morrison 

came  hurrying  after,  ready  to  defy  a  January  mid- 
night in  a  cocoon  of  koHnsky. 

Coventry  had  ridden  from  the  garage  with  the 
chauffeur.  "I  have  been  talking  with  Wallace. 
He  thinks  he'd  better  drive  to  the  State  House  by 
detour  through  the  parkway." 

"Go  straight  down  through  the  city,"  com- 
manded the  mistress.  "I'm  not  afraid  of  my  home- 
town folks.  Besides,  I  have  an  errand.  Stop  at 
the  Marion  Monitor  office,  Wallace!" 

The  city  certainly  offered  no  cause  for  alarm  when 
they  traversed  the  streets  of  the  business  district. 
Nobody  was  in  sight;  they  did  not  see  even  a 
patrolman. 

"The  bees  seem  to  have  hived  all  of  a  sudden," 
remarked  young  Daunt.  "All  fizz,  as  I  told  you, 
and  now  the  fizz  has  fizzled." 

When  the  car  stopped  in  front  of  the  newspaper 
office  Lana  asked  her  guests  to  wait  in  the  automo- 
bile. "That  is,  if  you  don't  mind!"  Then  Miss 
Corson  revealed  a  bit  of  nerve  strain;  she  allowed 
herself  to  copy  some  of  the  sarcasm  that  was  charac- 
teristic of  Doris  Stanton.  "One  of  those  old  friends 
whom  we  have  been  discussing  so  pleasantly  this 
evening,  Doris,  is  the  city  editor  of  the  Monitor. 
Gossipy,  of  course,  from  the  nature  of  his  business. 
But  I'm  sure  that  he'll  gossip  more  at  his  ease  if 
there  are  no  strangers  present." 

Coventry  had  opened  the  door  of  the  car.    Lana 

hastened  past  him  and  disappeared  in  the  building. 

242 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

"Dorrie,  Tm  afraid  you  are  overtraining  Lana," 
the  brother  complained.  "I  have  never  heard  her 
speak  hke  that  before." 

"I'm  giving  her  special  training  for  a  special  oc- 
casion which  will  present  itself  very  soon,  I  hope. 
When  she  talks  to  a  certain  man  I  want  to  feel  that 
my  efforts  haven't  been  thrown  away." 

"Oh,  Morrison  has  botched  everything  for  himself 
— all  around!" 

"Thank  you!  Fm  glad  to  hear  you  admit  that  a 
caveman  can  be  too  much  of  a  good  thing  with  his 
stone  hatchet  or  club  or  whatever  he  uses  to  bang  and 
whack  all  heads  with!" 

Mrs.  Stanton  impatiently  invited  Coventry  to  step 
in  and  shut  the  door  and  make  sure  that  the  electric 
heater  was  doing  business. 

City  Editor  Tasper  had  a  pompadour  like  a  pen- 
wiper, round  eyes,  and  a  wide  smile.  He  trotted  out 
to  Lana  in  the  reception-room  and  gave  her  com- 
radely greeting.  "Any  other  night  but  this,  Lana 
Corson,  and  I'd  have  been  up  to  your  house  to  pat 
Juba  on  the  side-lines  even  if  I  couldn't  squeeze  in 
one  assignment  on  your  dance  order.  But  as  a 
Marionite  you  know  what  we're  up  against  in  this 
office  the  night  before  an  inauguration.  Afraid  the 
reception-spread  will  be  squeezed?  Don't  worry. 
It's  a  big  night,  but  I'm  giving  you  a  first-page  send- 
oflF  just  the  same." 

"  Billy,  I'm  not  here  to  talk  about  that  reception. 
I  don't  care  if  there  isn't  a  word  about  it." 

243 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Oh,  I  get  you!  Don't  worry  about  that  fracas, 
either!  I'm  killing  all  mention  of  it.  We're  not 
advertising  that  Marion  has  Bolshevists.     Hurts!" 

"  But  I'm  not  trying  to  tell  you  your  business  about 
the  paper!"  the  girl  protested.  "I'm  here  after 
news.     What  is  the  trouble  at  the  State  House?" 

"I  don't  know,"  he  confessed.  "That  is  to  say, 
I'm  not  on  to  the  real  inside  of  the  proposition.  We 
can't  get  our  boys  in  and  we  can't  get  any  news  out ! 
Those  soldiers  won't  even  admit  the  telephone  crew 
to  restore  connection  with  the  Executive  Chamber." 

"My  father  is  there!  He's  there  with  the 
Governor." 

"Well,  I  should  say  for  a  guess  that  the  Senator 
Is  in  the  safest  place  in  the  city,  judging  from  the 
way  Danny  Sweetsir  and  his  warriors  are  on  their 
jobs  at  those  doors." 

"Billy,  who  else  is  there  with  the  Governor?"  she 
questioned,  anxiously,  harrowed  by  that  memory 
of  her  father's  tone  when  he  shouted  the  word 
"lunatic!" 

"No  know!  No  can  tell!"  returned  Tasper. 
"But  why  all  the  excitement?  There's  a  crowd  out- 
side the  State  House,  but  all  my  reports  say  that  it's 
still  orderly.  It's  only  the  old  'state  steal'  stuff 
warmed  over  by  the  sore-heads.  But  we're  printing 
a  statement  from  Governor  North  in  the  morning. 
The  whole  matter  is  going  up  to  the  full  bench  in 
the  usual  way.  If  the  opposition  starts  any  rough- 
stuff  to-night,   the  gang  hasn't  got  a  Pekingese's 

244 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

chance  in  a  bulldog  convention.  There  are  three 
machine-guns  in  that  State  House!" 

A  young  chap  who  was  trying  hard  to  be  pro- 
fessionally hlase  bolted  into  the  reception-room  in 
search  of  his  chief.  "Excuse  me!  But  four  truck- 
loads  of  men  from  the  Agawam  quarries  just  went 
through  toward  the  State  House.  They  had  crow- 
bars and  sledge-hammers!" 

"So?  Warson  is  making  a  demonstration,  is  he? 
I'll  be  back  there  in  a  minute,  Jack!"  Tasper 
turned  to  Lana  again.  "Warson  was  turned  down 
by  North  on  the  state-prison-wing  stone  contract. 
If  Warson  is  setting  up  stone-cutters  to  be  shot  as 
rowdies,  Warson  and  his  party  will  be  the  ones  who'll 
get  hurt." 

"But  our  state  will  be  hurt  most  of  all,  Billy," 
the  girl  declared,  with  passionate  earnestness.  "We'll 
be  ashamed  and  disgraced  from  one  end  of  the  coun- 
try to  the  other.  Just  think  of  our  own  good  state 
making  a  hideous  exhibition  when  we're  all  trying 
so  hard  to  get  back  to  peace!" 

"Must  have  law  and  order,"  Tasper  insisted. 

"Will  Governor  North  tell  those  soldiers  to  shoot 
and  kill?" 

"Sure  thing!  His  oath  of  office  obliges  him  to 
protect  state  property.  I've  just  been  reading  proof 
of  an  interview  he  gave  us  this  afternoon." 

Lana  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  beating  her 
hands  together. 

"I'll  explain  to  you,  Lana.   There's  quite  a  story 

245 


All-Wool  Morrison 

goes  with  it.  You  haven *t  been  in  touch  with  con- 
ditions here  at  home.  The  election  statutes  pro- 
vide that  the  Governor  and  his  Council — '* 

"I  haven't  any  time  to  listen  to  explanations! 
My  father  is  in  that  State  House!  In  the  name  of 
Heaven,  Billy  Tasper,  isn't  there  some  man  in  this 
state  big  enough,  broad  enough,  honest  enough  to 
get  between  the  fools  who  are  threatening  this 
thing?" 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  be  in  sight — at  any  rate,  just 
now." 

She  paused  in  her  walk,  hesitated,  and  then 
blurted,  "What  part  is  Stewart  Morrison  playing  in 
all  this?" 

"I  see  you  have  some  news  about  him,  too!" 
Mr.  Tasper  fenced,  eying  her  with  some  curiosity. 

"Dealing  in  news  is  your  business,  not  mine,"  she 
said,  tartly.  "But  I  did  hear  him  declare  in  public 
to-night  that  he  would  give  the  people  a  square  deal 
— or  that  he  would  see  to  it  that  it  is  done — or — or 
something!"  She  showed  the  embarrassment  of  a 
person  who  was  dealing  with  aflFairs  in  the  details  of 
which  she  was  not  well  informed. 

"All  right,  I'll  give  you  news  as  we  get  it  in  the 
office,  here.  Morrison  has  gone  nuts  over  this 
People  thing.  He  is  bucking  the  corporations  in  this 
water-power  dream  of  his.  Playing  to  the  people !  I 
think  it's  bosh.  Holds  capital  out  of  the  state! 
But  I  see  you're  in  a  hurry!    He  made  a  speech  to 

a   hit-or-miss    gang   down-town   to-night.     It   was 

246 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

snapped  as  a  surprise  and  we  didn't  have  our  men 
there.  But  from  what  we  gather  he  incited  feeling 
against  the  State  House  crowd.  Told  his  merry 
men  he'd  grab  in  and  fix  it  for  'em.  Bad  foozle, 
Lana!  Bad!  When  a  mayor  of  a  city  talks  like 
that  he's  putting  a  fool  notion  into  the  heads  of 
unthinking  irresponsibles,  making  'em  believe  that 
there  is  really  something  to  be  fixed.  He  ought  to 
have  told  'em  that  everything  was  all  right  and  to 
go  home  and  go  to  bed.  Your  father  would  have 
told  'em  that.  That's  good  politics.  But  you  and 
I  know  Stewart  from  the  ground  up!  He  is  about 
as  much  a  politician  as  I  am  parson — and  I'd  wreck 
a  well-established  parish  in  less  than  five  minutes 
by  the  clock.  He's  taking  a  little  more  time  as  a 
wrecker  in  his  line — but  he's  making  a  thorough  job 
of  it!" 

When  Tasper  mentioned  "job"  he  suggested  a 
natural  question  to  Miss  Corson.  "Where  is  he 
right  now.''" 

This  time  the  stare  that  the  city  editor  gave  the 
girl  was  distinctly  peculiar.  "According  to  what  we 
can  get  in  the  way  of  reports,  Lana,  the  last  time 
Morrison  was  seen  in  public  he  was  talking  with 
you.  If  he  has  talked  with  anybody  since  then  the 
folks  he  has  talked  with  are  keeping  mighty  mum 
about  it.  Perhaps  he  has  told  you  where  he  was 
going." 

Miss  Corson  exhibited  an  emotion  that  was  more 
profound  than  mere  embarrassment. 
17  247 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Pardon  me!  But  I'd  like  to  know,  Lana!  It's 
mighty  important  to  me  in  the  line  of  my  business 
right  now." 

"What?  Can't  you  find  the  mayor  of  the  city 
in  a  time  like  this?" 

"He's  not  at  home!  He's  not  at  City  Hall.  The 
chief  of  police  won't  say  a  word.  And  he's  not  in 
the  crowd  outside  the  State  House." 

Lana  did  not  disclose  the  fact  that  she  had  sug- 
gested to  the  mayor,  in  a  way,  the  rabble  as  Mor- 
rison's probable  destination,  and  that  he  had  agreed 
with  her. 

"And  a  fine  chance  he  has  of  being  let  inside  the 
State  House,"  Tasper  went  on,  with  conviction, 
"after  the  attitude  he  has  taken  in  regard  to  the 
administration ! " 

"He  may  be  there,  nevertheless!"  Whether 
hope  that  he  was  there  or  fear  that  he  might  be  there 
prompted  Lana's  suggestion  was  not  clear  from 
her  manner. 

"You'll  sooner  find  a  rat  down  the  back  of  my 
neck  than  find  Stewart  Morrison  inside  that  State 
House  after  the  brags  he  has  been  making  around 
this  city  in  the  past  few  hours,"  declared  Tasper, 
with  the  breezy  freedom  of  long  friendship  with  the 
caller.  "  He  is  A  Number  One  in  the  list  of  those 
who  can't  get  in!" 

"But  Captain  Sweetsir  is  his  mill-student!" 

"Captain  Sweetsir,  in  this  new  importance  of  his, 

is  leaning  so  far  backward,  in  trying  to  stand  straight, 

248 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

that  he*s  scratching  the  back  of  his  head  on  his  heels. 
His  own  brother  is  one  of  our  reporters  and  what  Dan 
did  to  Dave  when  Dave  made  a  holler  at  the  door  is 
a  matter  of  record  on  the  emergency-hospital  blotter. 
That's  straight!  Inch  of  sword-blade.  Not  dan- 
gerous, but  painful!" 

All  through  this  interview  Lana  had  maintained 
the  demeanor  of  one  who  was  poised  on  tiptoes, 
ready  to  run.  She  gathered  her  coat's  broad  collar 
more  tightly  in  its  clasp  of  her  throat,  and  started 
for  the  door.  But  she  whirled  and  ran  back  to 
Tasper. 

"You  say  that  Stewart  Morrison  is  no  politician! 
But  I  noticed  the  queer  flash  in  your  eyes,  Billy 
Tasper!  Do  you  think  he  is  a  coward  and  has  run 
away?" 

"Tut,  tut!  Not  so  strong!"  The  newspaper 
man  put  up  a  protesting  palm.  "I  simply  state  that 
His  Honor  the  Mayor  is  under — somewhere!  I 
never  saw  any  signs  of  his  being  a  coward — but  a 
lot  of  us  have  never  been  tested  by  a  real  crisis,  you 
know!" 

"You  say  he  has  no  power  in  politics!  Could  he 
do  anything  in  a  case  like  this?" 

Tasper  clawed  his  hand  over  his  head  and  the 
crest  of  his  pompadour  bristled  more  horrently. 
"He  could  at  least  try  to  undo  some  of  the  trouble 
he  has  caused  by  his  tongue.  He  could  be  at  City 
Hall,   where   he   belongs.     The   fact   that   he   isn't 

there — that  he  can't  be  found — speaks  a  whole  lot 

249 


All-Wool  Morrison 

to  the  people  of  this  city,  Lana  Corson!  Why, 
there  isn't  a  poHceman  to  be  seen  on  the  streets  of 
Marion  to-night!  We  can't  get  any  explanation 
from  police  headqn-'.rters.  A  devil  of  a  mayor, 
say  I!" 

She  turned  and  fled  to  the  door. 

**Lana!"  called  the  editor.  "He  has  made 
promises  that  he  can't  back  up — and  he  has  ducked. 
That's  the  story!  We're  going  to  say  so  in  the 
Monitor.     We  can't  say  anything  else!" 

She  made  no  reply. 

She  did  not  wait  for  the  elevator  to  take  her  down 
the  single  flight  of  stairs;  she  ran,  holding  her  wrap 
about  her. 

Coventry  Daunt,  on  the  watch  for  her,  opened 
the  limousine's  door  and  she  plunged  in.  "Wallace! 
To  the  State  House!     Quick!"  she  commanded. 

When  Tasper  returned  to  the  city-room  he  was 
told  that  somebody  was  waiting  on  the  telephone. 
It  was  one  of  the  men  assigned  to  the  matter  on 
Capitol  Hill;  he  was  calling  from  a  drug-store  booth 
in  that  neighborhood. 

"  Boss,  it  looks  as  if  they're  going  to  mix  it.  The 
tough  mutts  are  ready  to  grab  any  excuse  and  they 
won't  listen  to  men  like  Commander  Lanigan  of  the 
Legion." 

"If  there's  a  fight  pulled  oflf  all  we  can  do  is  to  see 
that  we  have  a  good  story.     What  else?" 

"I  think   I've   located   the  mayor.     I   can't   get 

anything  at  all  out  of  those  tin  Napoleons  at  the 

250 


The  City  of  Marion  Seeks  Its  Mayor 

doors,   but  Lanigan  says  that  Morrison  is  in  the 
State  House — *on  his  job,*  so  Lanigan  puts  it." 

"Lanigan  is  a  liar!"  the  city  editor  yelped.  "He 
has  been  a  two-legged  Hurrah-for-Morrison  ever 
since  his  high-school  days.  I  like  a  good  lie  when 
it's  told  to  help  a  friend!  This  one  isn't  good 
enough!  Stewart  Morrison  is  in  that  State  House 
like  tissue-paper  napkins  are  in  Tophet." 

"But  sha'n't  I  send  in  what  Lanigan  says?" 
"We  won't  have  any  room  for  the  joke  column  in 
the  morning,"  returned  the  city  editor,  hanging  up. 


XVII 

THE   CAPITOL   IN   SHADOW 

/^APITOL  SQUARE  was  choked  with  men.  The 
^^  gathering  was  characteristically  a  mob  made  up 
of  diverse  elements.  It  was  not  swayed  by  a  set 
purpose  and  a  common  motive.  It  was  not  welded 
by  coherence  of  intent.  Its  eddies  rushed  here  or 
filtered  there,  according  as  arguments  or  protests 
gained  attention  by  sharp  clamor  above  the  con- 
tinuous diapason  of  voices.  One  who  was  versed  in 
the  natures  and  the  moods  of  mobs  would  have  found 
that  mass  particularly  menacing  by  reason  of  the 
lack  of  unanimity.  Too  many  men  of  the  com- 
ponent elements  did  not  know  what  it  was  all  about! 
The  arguments  pro  and  con  were  developing  ani- 
mosities that  were  new,  fresh,  of  the  moment,  creating 
factions,  collecting  groups  that  were  ready  to  jump 
into  an  affray  that  would  enable  them  to  avoid 
embarrassing  explanations  of  why  they  were  there. 

A  mob  of  that  sort  is  easily  stampeded! 

Some  men  who  captained  the  factions  did  know 
why  they  were  there!  A  few  of  them  harangued; 
others    went    about,    whispering    and    muttering, 

inciting  malice  by  their  counsel. 

252 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

The  scum  of  that  yeasty  gallimaufry  was  on  the 
outskirts. 

When  the  Corson  limousine  rolled  into  the  square 
and  sought  to  part  its  way  through  that  scum  some- 
body in  the  crowd  made  a  proposition  that  was 
promptly  favored  as  far  as  the  votes  by  voices  went : 
**Tip  the  lapdog  kennel  upside  down!'* 

Chauffeur  Wallace  met  the  emergency  with  quick 
tactics.  He  reversed  and  drove  the  car  back- 
ward. The  fingers  of  the  attackers  slipped  from 
the  smooth  varnish  and  the  wheels  threatened 
those  who  tried  to  grab  the  running-boards.  Men 
who  seized  the  fender-bar  were  dragged  off  their 
feet. 

When  Coventry  Daunt  showed  a  praiseworthy  in- 
clination to  jump  out  and  whip  a  few  hundred  of 
them,  so  he  declared  in  his  ire,  he  was  pushed  back 
into  a  corner  by  his  sister. 

The  chauffeur  made  a  long  drive  in  reverse,  cir- 
cling, and  then  put  the  car  ahead  with  a  rush  and 
they  escaped  into  a  side-street. 

"Wallace,  get  us  home  as  quick  as  the  good  Lord 
will  let  you!"  Mrs.  Stanton's  command  was  hys- 
terically shrill. 

"Wallace,  take  the  first  turn  to  the  left,"  counter- 
manded the  mistress.  "Then  around  the  State 
House  to  the  west  portico." 

"You  crazy  girl,  what — after  that — ^why — what 
are  you  trying  to  do?"  demanded  Mrs.  Stanton,  fear 
making  her  furious. 

2S3 


All-JVool  Morrison 

"I'm  trying  to  get  into  that  building — and  Fm 
going  to  get  in!" 

"You  can't  get  in!  They  won't  let  you  in! 
Lana  Corson,  you  sha'n't  endanger  our  lives  again!" 

"Here,  Wallace!    This  turn!" 

The  driver  obeyed. 

Doris  set  rude  hands  upon  Lana  and  shook  her. 
"There's  nothing  sensible  you  can  do  if  you  do  get 
in! 

"Perhaps  not!  But  my  father  is  there;  he  has 
asked  me  to  help  and  I'm  going  to  explain  to  him 
how  I  did  my  best.  Doris,  I  must  tell  him,  so  that 
he  won't  get  into  worse  danger  by  waiting  and  de- 
pending on  that  idiot  of  a  sheriiF." 

"You  are  the  idiot!" 

"I  may  be.     But  I'm  going  in  there!' 

"Coventry,  you  are  sitting  like  a  prune  glace! 
Help  me  to  prevail  on  this  girl  to  use  some  common 
sense!" 

"You'll  help  me  very  much  if  you'll  do  some  pre- 
vailing with  your  sister,  Coventry,"  affirmed  Miss 
Corson,  resentfully,  trying  to  unclasp  the  chaperon's 
vigorous  hands. 

"After  what  has  been  happening,  I  don't  think 
Lana  needs  any  more  shaking,  Dorrie,"  the  brother 
remonstrated.  "  Everything  having  been  well  shaken, 
it's  time  to  do  a  little  taking.  Won't  you  take  some 
advice,  Lana?" 

"  If  it's  advice  about  going  home  and  deserting  my 
father  I'll  not  take  it." 

254 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

"I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't.  But  do  you  really 
think  you  can  get  into  the  State  House?" 

The  girl  did  not  disclose  the  discouraging  informa- 
tion given  to  her  by  Editor  Tasper  on  the  subject  of 
effecting  an  entrance.  "I'm  going  to  try!  And  I 
warn  you,  Doris,  that  I'm  about  at  the  end  of  my 
endurance." 

Mrs.  Stanton  sat  back  and  gritted  her  teeth. 

The  car  traversed  a  boulevard;  the  arc-lights 
showed  that  it  was  deserted.  A  narrow  street, 
empty  of  humankind,  led  to  the  west  portico.  That 
entrance,  so  Lana  knew,  was  used  almost  wholly  by 
the  State  House  employees.  The  door  was  closed; 
nobody  was  in  sight. 

"If  you  insist  on  the  venture,  I'll  go  with  you,  of 
course,"  offered  the  young  man.  When  the  car 
stopped  he  stepped  out. 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  only  make  it  harder  for  me, 
Coventry.  I  know  the  captain  of  the  guard.  But 
it  will  never  do  for  me  to  bring  a  stranger." 

She  hurried  into  the  shadow  of  the  portico.  "Get 
back  into  the  car!  You  must!  Wallace,  drive  Mrs. 
Stanton  and  Mr.  Daunt  to  the  house." 

When  Coventry  protested  indignantly  she  broke 
in:  "I  haven't  any  time  to  argue  with  you.  We 
may  be  watched.  Wait  at  the  corner  yonder  with 
the  car.  If  you  see  me  go  in,  take  Doris  home  and 
send  the  car  back.  Wallace,  I'll  find  you  down 
there  at  the  fountain!"  She  designated  with  a  toss 
of  her  hand  the  statuary,  gleaming  in  the  starlight. 


All-Wool  Morrison 

and  when  the  car  moved  on  she  ran  up  the  steps  of 
the  State  House. 

The  big  door  had  neither  bell  nor  knocker.  She 
turned  her  back  on  it  and  kicked  with  the  heel  of 
her  slipper. 

The  voice  that  inquired  "Who's  there?"  revealed 
that  the  warder  was  not  wholly  sure  of  his  nerves. 

"I  am  Senator  Corson's  daughter!" 

She  received  no  reply. 

"I  tell  you  I  am  Senator  Corson's  daughter!  I 
want  to  come  in.     My  father  is  there!" 

She  was  answered  by  a  different  voice;  she  recog- 
nized it.  It  was  the  unmistakable  drawl  and  nasal 
twang  of  Perley  Wyman.  Her  girlhood  memories  of 
Perley's  voice  had  been  freshened  very  recently 
because  he  had  been  assigned  to  the  Corson  mansion 
by  Thompson  the  florist  as  her  chief  aide  in  decorat- 
ing for  the  reception.  "Wal,  I  should  say  he  was 
here — and  then  some!  This  was  the  door  he  came 
in  through." 

"Open  it!    Open  it  at  once,  Perley  Wyman!" 

"I  dunno  about  that,  Miss  Corson!  We've  got 
orders  about  politicians  and  mobbers — " 

"I'm  neither.  I  command  you  to  open  this 
door." 

"Who  else  is  there?" 

"I'm  alone." 

Soldier  Wyman  pulled  the  bolts  and  opened.  "I 
ain't  feeling  like  taking  any  more  chances  with  the 

Corson  family  this  evening,"  he  admitted,  with  a 

256 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

grin  that  set  his  long  jaw  awry.  "Your  father  nigh 
cuffed  my  head  up  to  a  peak  when  I  tried  to  tell  him 
what  my  orders  were." 

Miss  Corson  was  not  interested  in  the  troubles  of 
Guard  Wyman.  He  was  talking  through  a  narrow 
crack;  she  set  her  hands  against  the  door  and  pushed 
her  way  in.  "Where  is  my  father?  What  trouble 
is  he  in?" 

"I  reckon  it  can't  be  any  kind  of  trouble  but  what 
he'll  be  capable  of  taking  care  of  himself  in  it  all 
right,"  opined  the  guard,  fondling  his  cheek  with  the 
back  of  his  hand.  "But  there  ain't  any  trouble  in 
here.  Miss  Corson.  It's  all  serene  as  a  canned  sar- 
dine that  was  canned  for  the  siege  of  Troy,  as  it  said 
in  the  opery  the  High  School  Cadets  put  on  that 
year  you  was  in  the — " 

"There's  a  mob  in  front  of  the  State  House!" 

"It  '11  stay  there,"  stated  Wyman,  remaining  as 
serene  as  the  comestible  he  had  mentioned.  "The 
St.  Ronan's  Rifles  can't  be  backed  down  by  any  mob. 
We  have  been  ordered  to  shoot,  and  that  kind  of  a 
gang  in  this  city  might  as  well  learn  its  lesson  to-night 
as  any  other  night.  It's  getting  time  to  do  a  lot  of 
law-and-order  shooting  in  this  country." 

The  girl,  harrowed  by  her  apprehensions,  was  not 
in  the  mood  to  discuss  affairs  with  this  amateur  bel- 
ligerent. But  his  complacency  in  his  bloodthirsty 
attitude  was  peculiarly  exasperating  in  her  case. 
He  seemed  to  typify  that  unreasonable  spirit  of 
slaughter  that  disdained  to  employ  the  facilities  of 

257 


All-Wool  Morrison 

good  sense  first  of  all.  This  florist's  clerk,  whom  she 
had  last  seen  on  a  step-ladder  with  his  mouth  full  of 
tacks,  was  talking  of  shooting  down  his  fellow- 
civilians  as  if  there  were  no  other  alternative. 

**My  father  may  be  in  danger  in  this  State  House, 
but  I'm  glad  he  is  here.  He  is  not  condoning  this! 
He  is  not  allowing  this  shame!  Who  is  the  lunatic 
who  is  threatening  my  father  and  bringing  disgrace 
on  this  state?"  She  remembered  the  Senator's 
assertion  over  the  telephone  and,  in  her  eagerness 
for  news,  she  was  willing  to  start  with  the  humble 
Soldier  Wyman. 

She  realized  suddenly  that  her  spirit  of  fiery  pro- 
test was  provoking  her  into  an  argument  that  might 
seem  rather  ridiculous  if  somebody  in  real  authority 
should  overhear  her  talking  to  Wyman  and  his  mate. 
The  portico  door  opened  into  a  remote  corridor. 

"The  only  lunatic,  up  to  date.  Miss  Corson,  has 
been  a  Canuck  who  had  a  knock-down  and  drag-out 
with  a  settee  and — " 

Lana  was  not  finding  Wyman's  statement  espe- 
cially convincing  in  the  way  of  establishing  faith  in 
his  sanity.  "I  thank  you  for  letting  me  in!  I  must 
find  my  father." 

The  interior  of  the  Capitol  building  was  familiar 
ground  to  her. 

It  occurred  to  her  sense  of  discretion  that  it  might 
be  well  to  avoid  Captain  Sweetsir  in  his  new  exalta- 
tion as  a  military  martinet.     She  found  a  narrow, 

curving  stairway  which  served  employees. 

Z58 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

On  the  second  floor,  hastening  along  the  dimly 
lighted  corridors,  turning  several  corners,  she  reached 
the  spacious  hall  outside  the  Senate  lobby.  She 
paused  for  a  moment.  From  the  hall  she  could  look 
down  the  broad,  main  stairway  which  conducted  to 
the  rotunda.  The  rumble  of  trucks  had  attracted 
her  attention.  Soldiers  were  moving  a  machine-gun; 
they  lined  it  up  with  two  others  that  were  already 
facing  the  great  doors  of  the  main  entrance.  She 
had  half  hoped  that  her  father  was  in  the  rotunda, 
using  his  influence  and  his  wisdom,  now  that  the 
mob  was  threatening  the  building  outside  those  great 
doors.  She  did  not  understand  just  how  the  Senator 
would  be  able  to  operate,  she  admitted  to  herself,  but 
she  felt  that  his  manly  advice  could  prevail  in  keep- 
ing his  fellow-citizens  from  murdering  one  another! 

In  the  gloom  below  her  she  saw  only  soldiers  and 
uniformed  Capitol  watchmen. 

Across  from  her  in  the  upper  hall  where  she  waited 
there  was  the  entrance  to  the  wing  which  contained 
the  Executive  Chambers.  Two  men,  one  of  whom 
was  talking  earnestly,  came  along  the  corridor  from 
the  direction  of  the  chambers.  Still  mindful  of 
what  Tasper  had  said  about  the  State  House  rules 
of  that  evening,  she  did  not  want  to  take  chances 
with  others  who  might  be  less  amenable  than  Florist- 
Clerk  Wyman.  There  were  high-backed  chairs  in 
the  corners  of  the  hall;  she  hid  herself  behind  the 
nearest  chair.  Her  dark  fur  coat  and  the  twilight 
concealed  her  effectually. 

259 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"General  Totten,  if  you  don't  fully  comprehend 
your  plain  duty  in  this  crisis,  you'd  better  stop  right 
here  with  me  until  you  do.  We  can't  afford  to  have 
those  soldiers  overhear.  Are  you  going  to  order 
them  to  march  out  of  this  State  House?"  This 
peremptory  gentleman  was  Stewart  Morrison! 

^-Lana   choked   back   what   threatened   to   be   an 
exclamation. 

"I  refuse  to  take  that  responsibiHty  on  myself." 

**You  must!  Such  a  command  to  state  troops 
must  come  from  you,  the  adjutant-general." 

"This  is  a  political  exigency.  Mister  Mayor!" 

"It  seems  like  that  to  me!" 

"It  requires  martial  law." 

**But  not  civil  war." 

"This  building  is  threatened  by  a  mob." 

"That's  because  you  have  put  it  in  a  state  of  siege 
against  citizens." 

"There's  no  telling  what  those  men  will  do  if  they 
are  allowed  to  enter." 

"They'll  do  worse  if  they  are  kept  out  by  guns." 

**It  means  wreck  and  rampage  if  they  are  per- 
mitted to  come  through  those  doors." 

"Look  here,  Totten,  this  State  House  has  stood 
here  for  a  good  many  years,  with  the  citizens  coming 
and  going  in  it  at  will.     I  don't  see  any  dents!" 

"This  is  an  exigency,  and  it's  different,  sir.  The 
state  must  assert  its  authority." 

"I'll  not  argue  against  the  state  and  authority 

with  you,  Totten,  for  you're  right  and  there's  no 

260 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

time  for  argument.  But  when  you  said  political 
exigency  you  said  a  whole  lot — and  we'll  let  this  par- 
ticular skunk  cabbage  go  under  that  name.  Don't 
try  that  law-and-order  and  state-authority  bluff 
with  me  in  such  a  case  as  this  is.  You're  right  in 
with  the  bunch  and  you  know  just  as  well  as  I  do 
what  the  game  is  this  time.  Probably  those  folks 
outside  there  don't  know  what  they  want,  but  they 
do  know  that  something  is  wrong!  Something  is 
almighty  wrong  when  elected  servants  are  obliged 
to  get  behind  closed  doors  to  transact  public  affairs. 
I'm  putting  this  on  a  business  basis  because  business 
is  my  strong  point.  These  red-tape  fellows  go  to 
war  and  use  the  people  for  the  goats  to  settle  a 
matter  that  could  be  settled  peaceably  by  hard- 
headed  every-day  men  in  five  minutes.  Now  with 
these  few  words,  and  admitting  that  I'm  all  that 
you  want  to  tell  me  I  am — and  confessing  to  a 
whole  lot  more  that  I  personally  know  about  my 
unadulterated  brass  cheek  in  the  whole  thing — 
we'll  close  debate.  Order  those  militia  boys  to 
march  out!" 

Morrison  held  a  little  sheaf  of  papers  in  his  hand. 
He  flapped  the  papers  violently  under  General 
Totten's  nose.  "Do  you  dare  to  ignore  these  tele- 
grams— the  opinions  of  the  justices  of  the  supreme 
judicial  court  of  this  state?'* 

"I  don't—" 

The  papers  flicked  the  end  of  the  general's  nose 

261 


All-Wool  Morrison 

and  he  shuffled  slowly  backward.     "Do  you  dare, 
I  say?" 

1  his  exigency — 

"That's  the  name  we've  agreed  on — for  a  dirty 
political  trick  without  an  atom  of  principle  behind 
it.  These  telegrams  will  make  great  reading  on  the 
same  page  with  the  list  of  names  in  the  hospitals 
and  the  morgue!"  General  Totten  was  retreating 
more  rapidly,  but  the  vibrating  papers  inexorably 
kept  pace  with  his  nose. 

"But  to  leave  this  State  House  unguarded — " 

"I  have  already  shown  you  what  I  can  do  with 
one  single  cop!  I  gave  you  a  little  lecture  on  cops 
in  general  back  yonder.  You  fully  understand  how 
one  cop  handled  the  adjutant-general  of  a  state. 
I'll  answer  for  the  guarding  of  this  State  House. 
Send  away  your  militia!" 

"I'm  afraid  to  do  it!"  wailed  Totten. 

"Then  you're  afraid  of  a  shadow,  sir!  But  I'll 
tell  you  what  you  may  well  be  afraid  of.  I'm  giving 
you  your  chance  to  save  your  face  and  your  dignity. 
Order  away  those  boys  or  I'll  go  and  stand  on  the 
main  stairway  and  tell  *em  just  how  they're  being 
used  as  tools  by  political  tricksters.  And  then  even 
your  tricksters  will  land  on  your  back  and  blame  you 
for  forcing  an  exposure.  I'll  tell  the  boys !  I  swear 
I'll  do  it!  And  I'll  bet  you  gold-dust  against  saw- 
dust that  they'll  refuse  to  commit  murder.  Totten, 
this  exigency  is  now  working  under  a  full  head  of 

steam.     You  can  hear  that  mob  now!    This  thing  is 

262 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

getting  down  to  minutes.  I'll  give  you  just  one  of 
those  minutes  to  tramp  down  into  that  rotunda  and 
issue  your  orders." 

"But  what — "  The  general's  tone  unmistakably 
indicated  surrender;  the  Governor  had  already 
shifted  the  onus;  Totten  knew  his  brother-in-law's 
nature;  the  Governor  would  just  as  soon  shift  the 
odium  after  such  an  explosion  as  this  wild  Scotchman 
threatened. 

"You  needn't  bother  about  the  what,  sir.  You 
give  the  order.  And  as  soon  as  the  thing  is  on  a 
business  basis  I'll  tend  to  it." 

Stewart  took  the  liberty  of  hooking  his  arm  inside 
the  general's.  The  officer  seemed  to  be  experiencing 
some  difficulty  in  getting  his  feet  started.  The  two 
hurried  along  and  trudged  down  the  middle  of  the 
main  stairway. 

Lana  followed.  She  halted  at  the  gallery  rail  and 
surveyed  the  scene  below. 

Even  in  her  absorption  in  the  affair  between 
Stewart  and  the  adjutant-general  she  had  been 
aware  of  the  rising  tumult  outside. 

The  bellow  of  voices  had  settled  into  a  sort  of 
chant  of,  "Time's  up — time's  up!" 

Captain  Sweetsir  had  deployed  his  men  across  the 
rotunda  behind  the  machine-guns. 

When  he  beheld  the  mayor  and  the  general  on  the 
stairs  he  saluted  nervously.  "They're  getting  ready 
to  use  sledge-hammers,  sir.     Shall  I  hand  'em  the 

rifle-fire  first  or  let  loose  with  the  machine-guns?" 

18  263 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Stewart  still  held  to  the  generars  arm. 

Totten  hesitated.  His  face  was  white  and  his  lips 
quivered. 

Morrison*s  gaze  was  set  straight  ahead,  but  a 
twist  of  his  face  indicated  that  he  said  something 
through  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

The  general  made  his  plunge. 
^"Captain  Sweetsir,  instruct  your  men  to  empty 
their  magazines,  assemble  accoutrements,  and  stand 
at  ease  in  marching  order." 

The  captain  came  onto  his  tiptoes  in  order  to 
elongate  himself  as  a  human  interrogation-point. 

"Captain  Sweetsir,  order  your  bugler  to  sound 
retreat!" 

The  officer  forced  an  amazed  croak  out  of  his  throat 
by  way  of  a  command,  and  on  the  hush  within  the 
rotunda  the  clarion  of  the  bugle  rang  out.  It 
echoed  in  the  high  arches.  Its  sharp  notes  cut  into 
the  clamor  outdoors. 

Morrison  recognized  a  voice  that  was  keyed  to  a 
pitch  almost  as  high  as  the  bugle's  strains.  "Hold 
your  yawp!  Don*t  you  hear  that.''"  Lanigan 
screamed.  "Don't  you  know  the  difference  be- 
tween that  and  a  fish-peddler's  horn?  That's  the 
tune  we  fellers  heard  the  Huns  play  just  before 
Armistice  Day.  That's  retreat!  Come  on,  Legion!" 
he  urged,  frantically.  "Ram  back  those  sledge- 
hammers!'* 

Morrison  grinned  and  released  the  general's  arm. 

"You  hear  that,  do  you,  sir?     When  you  can  con- 

264 


The  Capitol  in  Shadow 

vince  fair  men  that  you  re  on  the  right  slant,  the  fair 
men  will  proceed  to  show  rough-necks  where  they  get 
off  if  they  go  to  trying  on  the  wrong  thing!" 

"There's  going  to  be  the  devil  to  pay!"  insisted 
the  adjutant-general.  **  You're  going  to  let  that 
mob  into  the  State  House,  and  they'll  fight  all  over 
the  place.'* 

"We'll  see  what  they'll  do  after  the  showdown,  sir! 
And  you  can't  make  much  of  a  showdown  in  the  dark.'* 

He  left  General  Totten  on  the  stairs,  leaped  down 
the  remaining  steps,  and  ran  to  a  group  of  watchmen 
and  night  employees  of  the  State  House  who  were 
bulwarking  the  soldiers. 

"I'm  beginning  to  see  that  it*s  some  advantage, 
after  all,  to  be  the  mayor  of  this  city,"  Stewart 
informed  himself.  One  of  Marion's  aldermen  was 
chief  electrician  of  the  Capitol  building  and  was  in 
the  group,  very  much  on  duty  on  a  night  like  that. 
"Torrey  has  always  backed  me  in  the  city  govern- 
ment meetings,  at  any  rate!" 

The  alderman  came  out  of  the  ranks,  obeying  the 
mayor's  gesture. 

"Alderman,  I'm  in  the  minority  here,  nght  now, 
but  I  hope  you're  going  to  vote  with  me  for  more 
light  on  the  subject." 

Torrey  did  not  understand  what  this  quick  shift 
in  all  plans  signified,  and  said  so,  showing  deference 
to  the  mayor  at  the  same  time. 

"If  we've  got  to  fight  that  gang  we  need  these 

soldiers.  Mayor  Morrison!** 

26s 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Our  kind  of  men,  Alderman,  fight  best  in  the 
light;  the  cowards  like  the  dark  so  that  they  can 
get  in  their  dirty  work.  Do  you  get  me?  Yes! 
Thanks!  Excuse  me  for  hurrying  you.  But  get  to 
that  switchboard!  We  need  quick  action.  You  and 
I  represent  the  city  of  Marion  right  now.  Must 
keep  her  name  clean!  I'll  explain  later.  But  give 
'er  the  juice!  Jam  on  every  switch.  Dome  to 
cellar!  Lots  of  it!  Put  their  night-beetle  eyes  out 
with  it." 

He  was  hustling  along  with  Torrey  toward  the 
electrician's  room.  He  was  clapping  his  hand  on  the 
alderman's  shoulder. 

"I'm  going  outside  there,  Torrey!  Touch  up  the 
old  dome  and  give  me  all  the  front  lights.  If  the 
bricks  begin  to  whiz  I  want  to  see  who's  throwing 
'em!" 


XVIII 


THE    CAPITOL  ALIGHT 


piRST  of  all,  within  the  State  House,  there  was 
■'■  burgeoning  of  the  separate  lights  of  the  wall 
brackets  and  then  the  great  chandeliers  burst  into 
bloom. 

Electrician  Torrey  possessed  a  quick  understanding 
and  was  in  the  habit  of  doing  a  thorough  job  when- 
ever he  tackled  anything.  He  threw  in  the  switches 
as  rapidly  as  he  could  operate  them. 

Story  by  story  the  great  building  was  flooded  with 
glory  that  mounted  to  the  upper  windows  and  over- 
flowed into  the  night  with  a  veritable  cascade  of 
brilliancy  when  the  thousand  bulbs  of  the  dome's 
circlet  flashed  their  splendor  against  the  sky.  The 
lamps  of  the  broad  front  portico  and  its  approaches 
added  the  final,  dazzling  touch  to  the  general 
illumination. 

From  a  sullen,  gloomy  hulk  of  a  building,  with  its 

few  lights  showing  like  glowering  eyes  in  ambush, 

the  State  House  was  transformed  into  a  temple  of 

glory,   thrust   into  the   heavens   from   the   top   of 

267 


All-Wool  Morrison 

Capitol  Hill,  a  torch  that  signaled  comforting  candor, 
a  reassuring  beacon. 

The  surprise  of  the  happening  stilled  the  uproar. 

Neither  Morrison,  inside,  nor  the  mob,  outside, 
was  bothering  with  the  mental  analysis  of  the 
psychology  of  the  thing! 

Something  had  happened!  There  was  The  Light! 
It  threw  into  sharp  relief  every  upturned  face  in  the 
massed  throng.     Their  voices  remained  hushed. 

Commander  Lanigan,  standing  above  them  on  a 
marble  rail,  his  figure  outlined  against  a  pergola 
column,  did  his  best  to  put  some  of  his  emotions 
into  speech.  He  shouted,  *'Some  night-blooming 
cereus,  I'll  tell  the  world!" 

The  great  doors  swung  open  slowly.  They  re- 
mained open. 

Now  curiosity  replaced  astonisnment  and  held 
the  rioters  in  their  tracks;  their  mouths  were  wide, 
the  voices  mute. 

The  mayor  of  Marion  walked  into  view. 

The  columns  of  the  porte-cochere  were  supported  on 
a  broad  base,  and  he  climbed  up  and  was  elevated  in 
the  radiance  high  above  their  heads. 

He  smiled  hospitably.  "Boys,  it's  open  house, 
and  the  house  is  yours.  Hope  you  like  its  looks! 
But  what's  the  big  idea  of  the  surprise  party?" 

No  one  took  it  on  himself  to  reply.  He  waited 
tolerantly. 

"Well,  out  with  it!"  he  suggested. 

Somebody  with  a  raucous  voice  ventured.     "You 

268 


The  Capitol  Alight 

probably  know  what  theyVe  been  trying  to  hide 
away  from  the  people  inside  there.  Suppose  you  do 
the  talking." 

"I'm  not  here  to  make  a  speech." 

"Well,  answer  a  question,  then!"  This  was  a 
shrill  voice.  "What  about  those  soldiers  and  those 
machine-guns  in  there?" 

"Not  a  word!" 

With  yells,  oaths,  and  catcalls  the  crowd  offered 
comment  on  that  declaration. 

His  demeanor  as  a  statue  of  patience  was  more 
effective  than  remonstrance  in  quieting  them. 

"Any  other  gentlemen  wish  to  offer  more  remarks? 
Get  it  all  out  of  you!" 

He  utilized  the  hush.  "Boys,  I'm  going  to  give 
you  something  better  than  words.  Hearing  can't 
always  be  trusted.     But  seeing  is  believing!" 

He  pulled  a  police  whistle  from  his  pocket  and 
shrilled  a  signal. 

For  a  time  there  was  no  answer  or  demonstration 
of  any  sort. 

Then  the  tramp  of  marching  feet  was  heard  on  the 
pavement  of  the  square. 

It  was  Marion's  police  force,  issuing  from  some 
point  of  mobilization  near  at  hand;  it  was  the  force 
in  full  strength,  led  by  the  chief;  he  was  in  dress- 
parade  garb  and  the  radiance  of  the  square  was 
reflected  in  imposing  high-lights  by  his  gold  braid. 

The  crowd  was  shaken  by  eddies  and  was  con- 
vulsed by  quickly  formed  vortices.    Morrison  was 

269 


All-Wool  Morrison 

studying  that  mob  with  his  keen  gaze,  watching  the 
movements  as  they  sufficed  to  reveal  an  expression 
of  emotions. 

"Hold  on,  boys!  Don't  run  away!"  he  counseled. 
**Wait  for  the  big  show!  No  arrests  intended! 
Only  cowards  and  guilty  men  will  run!" 

The  light  that  was  shed  from  the  State  House 
was  pitilessly  revealing;  men  could  not  hide  their 
movements.  Morrison  reiterated  his  promise  and 
dwelt  hard  on  the  **coward  and  guilty"  part  of  his 
declaration. 

The  chief  of  police  waved  his  hand  and  the 
crowd  parted  obediently  and  the  officers  marched  up 
the  lane,  four  abreast. 

"Hold  open  that  passage  as  you  stand,  fellow- 
citizens!"  the  mayor  commanded.  "There's  more 
to  this  show!  You  haven't  seen  all  of  it!  Hold 
open,  I  tell  you!" 

Men  whom  he  recognized  as  Lanigan's  Legion 
members  were  jumping  in  on  the  side-lines  as  the 
policemen  passed.  With  arms  extended  the  veterans 
held  back  those  whom  Morrison's  commands  were 
not  restraining. 

"That's  good  team-work,  Joe,"  Stewart  informed 
Lanigan  when  the  latter  hurried  past  to  take  his 
place  as  a  helper. 

The  advent  of  the  police  had  provoked  a  flurry; 
their  movements  after  their  arrival  caused  a  genuine 
surprise.  They  gave  no  indication  of  being  in- 
terested in  the  crowd  that  was  packed  into  Capitol 

270 


The  Capitol  Alight 

Square.  The  ears  of  the  mob  were  out  for  orders  of 
dispersal!  Eyes  watched  to  see  the  officers  post 
themselves  and  operate  according  to  the  usual 
routine  in  such  matters. 

But  the  policemen  marched  straight  into  the 
State  House,  preserving  their  solid  formation. 

The  bugle  sounded  again  within. 

With  a  promptness  that  indicated  a  good  under- 
standing of  the  procedure  to  be  followed,  the  St. 
Ronan's  Rifles  came  marching  out. 

Captain  Sweetsir  saluted  smartly  as  he  passed 
the  place  where  the  mayor  of  Marion  was  perched. 

"How  about  three  cheers  for  the  boys?'*  Morrison 
shouted.  "What's  the  matter  with  you  down 
there?" 

He  led  them  off  as  cheer-leader.  He  marked  the 
sullen  groups,  the  voiceless  malcontents  as  best  he 
was  able.  The  Legion  boys  were  vehemently  en- 
thusiastic in  their  acclaim. 

The  guards  marched  briskly.  The  machine-guns 
clanged  along  the  pavement,  bringing  up  the  rear. 

"That's  all!"  Stewart  declared,  when  the  soldiers 
were  well  on  their  way.  "Now  you  don't  need  any 
words,  do  you?  I'll  merely  state  that  your  State 
House  is  open  to  the  people!" 

"Like  blazes  it  is,"  bawled  somebody. 

He  pointed  to  the  open  doors,  his  reply  to  that 
challenge. 

"How  about  those  cops?"  demanded  somebody 

else. 

271 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Your  State  House  is  open,  I  tell  you.  If  you 
want  to  go  in,  go  ahead.  It's  open  for  straight 
business,  and  it  will  stay  open.  There  are  no  dark 
comers  for  dirty  tricks  or  lying  whispers.  It*s  your 
property.  If  there's  any  whelp  mean  enough  to 
damage  his  own  property,  he'll  be  taken  care  of  by 
a  policeman.  That's  why  they're  in  there.  That's 
what  you're  paying  taxes  for,  to  have  policemen 
who'll  take  care  of  sneaks  who  can't  be  made  decent 
in  any  other  way.  Some  other  gentleman  like  to  ask 
a  question?" 

Morrison  realized  that  he  had  not  won  over  the  ele- 
ments that  were  determined  to  make  trouble.  His 
searching  eyes  were  marking  the  groups  of  the  rebels. 

He  directed  an  accusatory  finger  at  one  man,  a 
Marion  politician.  "Matthewson,  what's  on  your 
mind  ?  Don't  keep  it  all  to  yourself  and  those  chaps 
you're  buzzing  with!" 

Matthewson,  thus  singled  out,  was  embarrassed 
and  incensed  at  the  same  time.  "What  have  they 
been  trying  to  put  over  with  that  militia,  anyway?" 

"Put  protection  over  state  property  because  such 
mouths  as  yours  have  been  making  threats  ever 
since  election.  But  just  as  soon  as  it  was  realized 
that  good  citizens,  like  the  most  of  these  here,  were 
misunderstanding  the  situation  and  were  likely  to 
be  used  as  tools  of  gangsters,  out  went  the  militia! 
You  saw  it  go,  didn't  you?" 

"I'd  like  to  know  who  did  all  that  realizing  you're 

speaking  of!'* 

272 


The  Capitol  Alight 

"It's  not  in  good  taste  for  an  errand-boy  of  my 
caliber  to  gossip  about  the  business  of  those  for  whom 
he  is  doing  errands.  I'll  merely  say,  Matthewson, 
that  the  people  of  this  state  can  always  depend  on 
the  broad-gaged  good  sense  of  United  States  Senator 
Corson  to  suggest  a  solution  of  a  political  difficulty. 
And  you  may  be  sure  that  the  state  government 
will  back  him  up.  Go  down-town  and  ask  the  boys 
of  the  guard  who  it  was  that  gave  the  command  for 
them  to  leave  the  State  House.  After  that  you'd 
better  go  home  to  bed.  That's  good  advice  for  all 
of  you." 

A  shrill  voice  from  the  center  of  the  massed  throng 
cut  in  sharply.  "Go  home  like  chickens  and  wait 
to  have  your  necks  wrung!  Go  home  like  sheep  and 
wait  for  the  shearer  and  the  butcher." 

The  mayor  leaned  forward  and  tried  to  locate  the 
agitator.  "Hasn't  the  gentleman  anything  to  say 
about  goats?  He's  missing  an  excellent  oppor- 
tunity!" Morrison  showed  the  alert  air  of  a  hunter 
trying  to  flush  game  in  a  covert. 

The  provoking  query  had  its  effect.  "Yes,  that's 
what  you  call  us — all  you  rulers  call  us  the  goats!" 

A  brandished  fist  marked  the  man's  position  in  the 
mob. 

"Ah,  there  you  are,  my  friend!  What  else  have 
you  on  your  mind?" 

"I'll  tell  you  what  you  have  on  your  face.  You 
have  the  mark  of  an  honest  man's  hand  there!     I 

saw  him  plant  that  mark!" 

273 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"And  what's  the  answer?"  asked  Stewart,  pleas- 
antly. 

"You're  a  coward!  You're  not  fit  to  advise  real 
men  what  to  do!" 

"I'm  afraid  you  have  me  sized  up  all  too  well!" 
There  was  something  like  wistful  apology  in  Mor- 
rison's smile. 

Lanigan  had  forced  his  way  close  to  the  foot  of  the 
plinth  where  the  mayor  was  elevated.  The  com- 
mander's head  was  tipped  back,  his  goggling  eyes 
were  full  of  anguished  rebuke,  and  his  mouth  was 
wide  open. 

The  man  in  the  crowd  yelped  again,  encouraged 
by  his  distance  and  by  Morrison's  passivity  under 
attack.  "You  think  you  own  a  mill.  Your  honest 
workmen  own  it.     You  are  a  thief!" 

"  My  Gawd ! "  Lanigan  squawked,  hoarsely.  "Ain't 
it  in  you?     Ain't  a  spark  of  it  in  you?" 

Morrison  delivered  sharp  retort  in  an  undertone. 
"Don't  you  know  better  than  to  tangle  my  lines 
when  I'm  playing  a  fish?  Shut  up!"  He  tossed  his 
hand  at  the  individual  in  the  crowd,  inviting  him  to 
speak  further. 

"You're  a  liar,  too!"  responded  the  disturber. 

"That's  a  tame  epithet,  my  friend.  Commonly 
used  in  debate.  I'm  afraid  you're  running  out  of 
ammunition.  Haven't  you  anything  really  im- 
portant to  say,  now  that  I'm  giving  you  the  floor?" 

Men  were  beginning  to  remonstrate  and  to  threaten 

in  behalf  of  the  mayor  of  the  city. 

274 


The  Capitol  Alight 

"Hold  on,  boys!"  Morrison  entreated.  "We 
must  give  our  friend  a  minute  more  if  he  really  has 
anything  to  say.     Otherwise  we'll  adjourn — " 

The  bait  had  been  dangled  ingratiatingly;  a 
movement  had  been  made  to  jerk  it  away — ^the 
"fish"  bit,  promptly  and  energetically. 

"I'll  say  it — I'll  say  what  ought  to  be  said — I'll 
shame  the  cowards  here!" 

"Let  Brother  What's-his-name  come  along,  boys! 
Please!  Please!"  The  mayor  stretched  forth  his 
arms  and  urged  persuasively.  "Keep  your  hands 
off  him!     Let  him  come!" 

"They're  going  over  him  for  a  gat.  Mister  Mayor," 
called  Lanigan.  "I've  given  'em  one  lesson  in  that 
line  this  evening,  already!" 

The  volunteers  who  were  patting  the  disturber 
released  him.  The  patting  had  not  been  in  the  way 
of  encouragement.  "Nothing  on  him!  Let  him 
go!"  commanded  one  of  the  searchers. 

The  man  who  came  forcing  his  way  through  the 
press,  his  clinched  fists  waving  over  his  head,  was 
young,  pallid,  typically  an  academic  devotee  of 
radicalism,  a  frenetic  disciple,  obsessed  by  Juror 
loquendi.  He  was  calling  to  the  mob,  trying  to 
rouse  followers.  "You  have  been  standing  here, 
freezing  in  the  night,  damning  tyrants,  boasting  what 
you  would  do.  Why  don't  you  do  it.^*  Do  you  let 
a  smirking  ruler  bluff  all  the  courage  of  real  men  out 
of  you  ?  He's  only  doing  the  bidding  of  those  higher 
up.    He  admits  it!    He's  a  tool,  too!    He's  a  foj?l 

275 


All-Wool  Morrison 

along  with  you,  if  he  tries  to  excuse  tyranny.  You 
have  your  chance,  now,  and  all  the  provocation  that 
honest  men  need.  The  rulers  tried  to  scare  you  with 
guns.  But  you  have  called  the  bluff.  Their  hired 
soldiers  have  run  away.  Now  is  your  time!  Take 
your  government  into  your  hands!  Down  with 
aristocrats!  Smash  'em  like  we  smash  their  win- 
dows. They  hold  up  an  idol  and  ask  you  to  bow 
down  and  be  slaves  to  it;  but  you're  only  bowing 
to  the  drivers  of  slaves!  They  hide  behind  that  idol 
and  work  it  for  all  it's  worth.  They  point  to  it  and 
tell  you  that  you  must  empty  your  pockets  to  add 
to  their  wealth,  and  work  your  fingers  oflF  for  their 
selfish  ends." 

He  halted  a  short  distance  from  the  plinth,  de- 
claiming furiously. 

Morrison  broke  in,  snapping  out  his  words. 
"Down  to  cases,  now!    What  is  the  idol?" 

**A  patchwork  of  red,  white,  and  blue  rags!" 

Morrison  whirled,  crouched  on  his  hands  and 
knees,  set  his  fingers  on  the  edge  of  the  plinth,  and 
slid  down  the  side.  He  swung  for  an  instant  at  the 
end  of  his  arms  and  dropped  the  rest  of  the  way  to 
the  pavement. 

Lanigan  had  started  for  the  man,  but  Stewart 
overtook  the  commander,  seized  him  by  the  collar 
and  coattail  slack,  and  tossed  him  to  one  side. 

"Here's  a  case  at  last  where  I  don't  need  any  help 
or  advice  from  you,  Joe!" 

"Punch   the  face  ofFn  him!"    adjured    Lanigan, 

276 


The  Capitol  Alight 

even  while  he  was  floundering  among  the  legs  of  the 
men  against  whom  he  had  been  thrown. 

The  mayor  plunged  through  the  crowd  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  vilifier. 

The  man  did  not  attempt  to  escape.  "Strike  me! 
Strike  me  down.  I  offer  myself  for  my  cause  to 
shame  these  cowards!" 

But  Morrison  did  not  use  his  fists,  though  Lanigan 
continued  to  exhort. 

"There  are  altogether  too  many  of  you  would-be 
martyrs  around  this  city  to-night.  I  can't  accom- 
modate you  all!"  Stewart  made  the  same  tackle 
he  had  used  in  the  case  of  Lanigan  and  Spanish- 
walked  his  captive  back  toward  the  porte-cochere. 

**I  reckon  I  do  need  your  help,  after  all,  Joe!" 
confessed  Morrison,  noting  that  Lanigan  was  on  his 
feet  again.     "Give  me  your  back  and  a  boost!" 

Then  the  captor  suddenly  tripped  the  captive 
and  laid  him  sprawling  at  Lanigan's  feet;  before  the 
fallen  man  was  up,  Morrison,  using  the  commander's 
sturdy  shoulders  and  the  thrust  of  the  willing  arms 
of  his  helper,  had  swung  himself  back  to  the  top  of 
the  plinth.  He  kneeled  and  reached  down  his 
hands.  "Up  with  him,  Joe!  Toss!  I  won't  miss 
him!" 

Lanigan  was  helped  by  a  comrade  in  making  the 
toss.  Morrison  grasped  the  man  and  yanked  him 
upright  and  held  him  in  a  firm  clutch. 

The  mayor  was  receiving  plenty  of  advice  from 

the  crowd  by  that  time.     The  gist  of  the  counsel 

277 


All-Wool  Morrison 

followed  Lanigan's  suggestion  about  punching  off  the 
fellow's  face.  But  the  mob  was  by  no  means 
unanimous.  Men  were  daring  to  voice  threats 
against  Morrison. 

As  it  had  availed  before  that  evening,  Morrison's 
imperturbable  silence  secured  quiet  on  the  part  of 
others. 

"The  opinion  of  the  meeting  seems  to  be  divided," 
he  said.  He  had  recovered  his  poise  along  with  his 
breath.  "But  no  matter!  I  shall  not  adopt  the 
advice  of  either  side.  I  shall  not  let  this  fellow  go 
until  I  have  finished  my  business  with  him.  I  shall 
not  punch  his  face  off  him.  I'll  not  flatter  him  to 
that  extent.  A  good  American  reserves  his  fists  for 
a  man-fight  with  a  real  man."  He  shook  the  capH 
tive,  holding  him  at  arm's-length.  /'Here's  a  young 
fool  who  has  been  throwing  stones  at  windows. 
Here's  a  fresh  rowdy  who  has  been  sticking  out 
his  tongue  at  authority.  I  know  exactly  what 
he  needs!" 

"He  insulted  the  flag  of  this  country!  Turn  him 
over  to  the  police!"  somebody  insisted,  and  a  roar 
of  indorsement  hailed  the  demand. 

"Citizens,  that  would  be  like  giving  a  mongrel  cur 
a  court  trial  for  sheep-killing!  This  perverted  in- 
fant simply  needs — dingbats!''  He  shouted  the  last 
word.  He  twisted  the  radical  o£F  his  feet,  stooped, 
and  laid  the  victim  across  a  knee  that  was  as  solid 
as  a  tree-trunk,  and  with  the  flat  of  a  broad  hand 

began  to  whale  the  culprit  with  all  his  might. 

278 


The  Capitol  Alight 

The  onlookers  were  silent  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  there  was  a  chorus  of  jeering  approbation. 

When  the  shamed,  humiliated,  agonized  radical — 
thus  made  a  mark  for  gibes  instead  of  winning  honor 
as  a  martyr  for  the  cause — began  to  wail  and  plead 
the  men  who  were  nearest  the  scene  of  flagellation 
started  to  laugh.  The  laughter  spread  Hke  a  fire 
through  dry  brambles.  It  ran  crackling  from  side 
to  side  of  the  great  square.  It  mounted  into  higher 
bursts  of  merriment.  It  became  hilarity  that  was 
expended  by  a  swelling  roar  that  split  wide  the  night 
silence  and  came  beating  back  in  riotous  echoes  from 
the  fa9ade  of  the  State  House.  That  amazing 
method  of  handling  anarchy  had  snapped  the  tense 
strain  of  a  situation  which  had  been  holding  men's 
emotions  in  leash  for  hours.  The  ludicrousness  of 
the  thing  was  heightened  by  the  nervous  solemnity 
immediately  preceding.  Men  beat  their  neighbors 
on  the  back  in  instant  comradeship  of  convulsed, 
rollicking  jubilation. 

"Always  leave  *em  laughing  when  you  say  good- 
by!"  Morrison  advised  the  chap  whom  he  was  man- 
handling. He  held  the  fellow  over  the  edge  of  the 
plinth  by  the  collar  and  dropped  him,  wilted  and 
whimpering,  into  the  waiting  arms  of  the  apprecia- 
tive Lanigan.  "Dry  his  eyes,  Joe,  and  wipe  his 
nose,  and  see  that  he  gets  started  for  home  all  right." 

Morrison  stood  straight  and  secured   a  hearing 

after  a  time.     "Boys,  those  of  you  who  are  in  the 

right  mind — and  I  hope  all  of  you  are  that  way  now, 
19  279 


1 


All-Wool  Morrison 

after  a  good  laugh — IVe  given  you  a  sample  of  how 
to  handle  the  Bolshevist  blatherskites  when  you 
come  across  *em  in  this  country.  Look  around  and 
if  you  find  any  more  of  *em  in  the  crowd  go  ahead 
and  dose  'em  with  dingbats!  Fine  remedy  for  child- 
ish folly!  I  reckon  all  of  us  have  found  out  that 
much  for  ourselves  in  the  old  days.  I  won't  keep 
you  standing  in  the  cold  here  any  longer.  Good 
night!" 

He  leaped  down  on  to  the  porch  and  went  into 
the  State  House. 

General  Totten  was  near  the  big  door. 

The  men  outside  were  guffawing  again. 

Morrison  was  dusting  his  palms  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  had  finished  a  rather  unpleasant  job. 
"Do  you  hear  'em,  Totten?  Sounds  better  than 
howls  of  a  crowd  bored  by  machine-gun  bullets,  eh  ? 
How  much  chance  do  you  think  there  is  of  starting 
a  civil  war  among  men  who  are  laughing  like  that  ?  '* 


XIX 

LANA  CORSON  HAS   HER  DOUBTS 

'T'HE  chief  of  police  had  distributed  his  officers  to 
'*'    posts  of  duty  and  was  patrolling  the  rotunda. 

He  saluted  the  mayor  when  Morrison  came  hurry- 
ing in  through  the  main  entrance. 

"All  is  fine,  Chief!  I  thank  you  for  your  work. 
I  don't  look  for  anything  out  of  the  way,  after  this. 
But  keep  your  men  on  till  further  orders." 

At  the  foot  of  the  grand  stairway  Stewart's  self- 
possession  left  him. 

Lana  Corson  was  standing  half-way  up  the  stairs. 
Her  furs  were  thrown  back,  revealing  her  festival 
attire.  Her  beauty  was  heightened  by  the  flush 
on  her  cheeks  and  by  the  vivid  animation  in  her 
luminous  eyes. 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  his  gaze  meeting  hers, 
and  then  he  hastened  to  her. 

"How  did  it  happen — ^that  you're  here,  Lana?" 

"I'm  here — let  that  be  an  answer  for  now.  But 
this,  Stewart — this  what  I  have  been  seeing  and 
hearing!    Does  it  mean  what  it  seems  to  mean?" 

"I'll  have  to  admit  that  I  don't  know  exactly  how 

28l 


All-Wool  Morrison 

it  does  show  up  from  the  side-lines.  Suppose  you 
say!" 

"I  heard  you  talk  to  General  Totten.  I  heard 
you  talk  to  that  mob.  I  saw  what  you  did.  But  I 
heard  you  give  all  the  credit  to  my  father."  She 
searched  Stewart's  face  with  more  earnest  stare. 
"You  have  saved  the  state  from  disgracing  itself, 
haven't  you?  Isn't  that  what  you  have  done — 
you  yourself?" 

"Oh,  nonsense!  Tell  me!  How  did  you  get  in 
and  who  came  with  you?" 

"I'm  here  alone,  Stewart,  and  it's  of  no  importance 
how  I  got  in.  The  question  I  have  asked  you  is  the 
important  one  just  now." 

Her  insistence  was  disconcerting;  he  had  not 
recovered  from  the  astonishment  of  the  sudden 
meeting;  he  felt  that  he  ought  to  lie  to  that  daughter, 
in  the  interests  of  her  family  pride,  but  he  was  con- 
scious of  his  inability  to  lie  glibly  just  then. 

"Where  is  your  car?" 

"Waiting  for  me  in  the  little  park." 

"Lana,  there'll  be  no  more  excitement  here — not 
a  bit.  Nothing  to  see!  Suppose  you  allow  me  to 
take  you  to  the  car.     Come!"     He  put  out  his  arm. 

"Certainly  not!  Not  till  I  see  my  father!  He  is^ 
in  danger!" 

"I  assure  you  he  is  not.  I  left  him  with  the  Gov- 
ernor only  a  few  minutes  ago,  and  the  Senator  was 
never  better  in  his  life — nor  safer!"     In  spite  of  his 

best  endeavor  to  be  consolatory  and  matter-of-fact 

282 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

he  was  not  able  to  keep  a  certain  significance  out  of 
his  tone. 

From  where  she  stood  she  could  look  across  the 
rotunda  and  down  into  the  square.  The  glare  of 
the  lights  made  all  movements  visible.  The  crowd 
was  melting  away. 

"Stewart,  brains  and  tact  have  accomplished 
wonders  here  to-night.  I  want  to  know  all  the 
truth.  Why  shouldn't  you  be  as  candid  to  me  as 
you  seemed  to  be  with  those  men  when  you  were 
talking  to  them?  I  want  to  give  my  gratitude  to 
somebody!  The  name  of  our  good  state  has  been 
kept  clean.  You're  not  fair  to  me  if  you  leave  me 
in  the  dark  any  longer." 

"I  did  my  little  bit,  that's  all!  I'm  only  one  of 
the  cogs!" 

"I  know  how  I'll  make  you  tell.  I  propose  to 
give  you  all  the  credit.  And  I  never  knew  you  to 
keep  anything  that  didn't  belong  to  you." 

"Now  you're  not  fair  yourself,  Lana!  We  just 
put  our  heads  together — the  whole  of  us — that's  all! 
Put  our  heads  together!  You  know!  As  men 
will!"  His  stammering  eagerness  did  not  satisfy 
her  feminine  penetration.  Her  daughterly  interest 
in  the  Senator's  political  standing  was  stirred  as  she 
reflected. 

"My  father  is  down  here  to  see  that  his  fences 
are  in  good  shape,"  she  declared,  with  true  Washing- 
ton sapience.     "I  think  it  was  his  duty  and  privilege 

to  step  out  there  and  make  the  speech.     I'm  sur- 

283 


All-Wool  Morrison 

prised  because  he  let  such  an  opportunity  slip.  With 
all  due  respect  to  the  mayor  of  Marion,  you  were 
not  at  all  dignified,  Stewart.  They  laughed  at  you — 
and  I  didn't  blame  them!" 

"I  can't  blame  'em,  either,"  he  confessed.  "I — 
I — I  guess  I  lost  my  head.  I'm  not  used  to  making 
speeches.  I  have  made  two  since  supper,  and  both 
of  *em  have  seemed  to  stir  up  a  lot  of  trouble  for 
me. 

"I  think,  myself,  that  you're  rather  unfortunate 
as  a  speechmaker,"  she  returned,  dryly.  "I  suppose 
you're  going  back  to  report  to  father.  I'll  go  with 
you."  In  her  manner  there  was  implied  promise 
that  she  would  proceed  to  learn  more  definitely  in 
what  quarters  her  especial  gratitude  ought  to  be 
expended. 

"Lana,"  he  urged,  "I  wish  you'd  go  home  and 
wait  for  your  talk  with  your  father  when  he  comes. 
He'll  be  coming  right  along.  I'll  see  that  he  does. 
There's  nothing — not  much  of  anything  to  keep  him 
here.  But  I  need  to  have  a  little  private  confab 
with  him." 

"So  private  that  I  mustn't  listen?  I  hope  that 
we're  still  old  friends,  Stewart,  you  and  I,  though 
your  attitude  in  regard  to  father's  affairs  has  made 
all  else  between  us  impossible." 

He  did  not  pursue  the  topic  she  had  broached. 
There  was  a  certain  finality  about  her  deliverance  of 
the  statement,  a  decisiveness  that  afforded  no  hint 

that  she  would  consider  any  compromise  or  recon- 

284 

\ 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

sideration.  His  face  was  very  grave.  "I  have  a 
little  business — a  few  loose  ends  to  take  up  with  the 
Senator.  Once  more  I  beg  that  you  will  defer — '* 
"I  will  go  with  you  to  the  Executive  Chamber. 
I'll  be  grateful  for  your  escort.  If  you  don't  care 
to  have  me  go  along  with  you,  I  can  easily  find  my 
way  there  alone." 

Her  manner  left  no  opportunity  for  further 
appeal. 

He  bowed.  He  did  not  offer  his  arm.  They 
walked  together  up  the  stairway.  With  side- 
glances  she  surveyed  his  countenance  wonderingly; 
in  his  expression  true  distress  was  mingled  with 
apprehensiveness.  He  had  the  air  of  an  unwilling 
guide  detailed  to  conduct  an  unsuspecting  innocent 
to  be  shocked  by  the  revelations  of  a  chamber  of 
horrors;  she  put  it  that  way  to  herself  in  jesting 
hyperbole. 

The  newspaper  men,  who  had  followed  Mayor 
Morrison  into  the  State  House,  had  been  holding 
aloof,  politely,  from  a  conference  which  seemed  to 
have  no  bearing  on  the  political  situation.  They 
hurried  behind  and  overtook  Stewart  and  the  young 
lady  at  the  head  of  the  stairway;  their  spokesman 
asked  for  a  statement. 

"I    made    it!    Out   there    a    few    minutes    ago! 
Boys,  you  heard  what  I  said,  didn't  you^" 
"Yes." 
**Well,  I  talked  more  than  I  intended  to!     Boil  it 

down  to  a  few  lines  and  let  it  go  at  that!" 

28s 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"We  want  to  get  the  matter  just  right,  Mister 
Mayor,  and  give  credit  where  it's  due." 

"I  covered  the  matter  of  credit.  There's  nothing 
more  to  say,"  repHed  Stewart,  curtly. 

The  reporters  surveyed  him  with  considerable 
wonderment;  his  manner  in  times  past  had  always 
been  distinguished  by  frank  graciousness. 

"We'd  like  to  see  Senator  Corson  and  Governor 
North." 

That  request  seemed  to  provoke  the  mayor's 
irritability  still  more.  "I'm  not  the  guardian  of 
those  gentlemen  or  of  this  State  House!"  He 
turned  on  his  heel  abruptly.  "Miss  Corson!" 
She  was  waiting  a  few  paces  away.  He  rejoined  her 
and  by  a  gesture  invited  her  to  walk  along.  "I'm 
sorry!     I  did  not  mean  to  delay  you!" 

The  newspaper  men  followed  on  as  far  as  the  door 
of  the  Executive  Chamber. 

Morrison  faced  them  there.  "I  don't  mean  to 
interfere  with  you,  boys,  in  any  way.  And  you 
mustn't  interfere  with  me.  As  soon  as  the  Senator 
and  the  Governor  finish  with  me  they'll  give  you  all 
the  time  you  want,  no  doubt !  Please  wait  outside ! " 
He  tapped  on  the  door  and  gave  his  name.  ReUihan 
opened.  Morrison  seized  the  officer's  arm  and 
pulled  him  outside.  "Keep  everybody  away  from 
the  door  for  a  few  moments — till  further  orders." 

Stewart  escorted  Miss  Corson  into  the  chamber 
with  almost  as  much  celerity  as  he  had  employed  in 

escorting  Rellihan  out;  and  he  promptly  banged  the 

286 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

door.  He  walked  slowly  across  the  room  toward 
the  big  table,  following  Lana,  who  hastened  toward 
her  father.  The  Senatorw  as  standing  behind  the 
table,  flanked  by  North  and  Daunt.  The  three  of 
them  formed  a  portentous  battery.  Morrison  did 
not  speak.  His  expression  indicated  humility.  He 
drooped  his  shoulders.  There  was  appeal  in  his 
eyes.  "Here  I  am ! "  the  eyes  informed  the  glowering 
Senator.  But  a  side-glance  hinted:  "Here  is  your 
daughter,  too.     Use  judgment!'* 

Lana  was  manifestly  perplexed  by  what  she  saw. 
Three  distinguished  gentlemen  were  presenting  the 
visages  of  masculine  Furies.  She  looked  away  from 
them  and  received  a  little  comfort  from  the  placid 
countenances  of  Andrew  Mac  Tavish  and  Delora 
Bunker,  but  their  presence  in  that  place  and  at  that 
hour  only  made  her  mystification  more  complete. 

She  had  been  allowing  her  imagination  to  paint 
pictures  before  she  stepped  into  the  Executive  Cham- 
ber; she  had  expected  to  find  her  father  virtuously 
triumphant,  serenely  a  successful  molder  of  pacific 
plans.  His  scowl  was  so  forbidding  that  she  stopped 
short. 

"  Father,  it's  wonderful — perfectly  wonderful,  isn't 
it?"  She  tried  to  speak  joyously,  but  she  faltered. 
"I  saw  it  all!     I  saw  how  your  plan  succeeded.'* 

"Damn  you,  Morrison!  What  has  happened?" 
The  Senator  did  not  merely  demand — he  exploded. 

The   silence  which  followed   became  oppressive. 

Miss  Corson  was  too  thoroughly  horrified  to  pro- 

287 


All-Wool  Morrison 

ceed.  Apparently  Governor  North  and  Daunt  had 
selected  their  spokesman  and  had  nothing  to  say 
for  themselves.  Morrison  seemed  to  be  especially 
helpless  as  an  informant;  he  wagged  his  head  and 
pointed  to  Lana. 

"Answer  my  question,  Morrison!" 

"I  think  Miss  Corson  better  tell  you,  sir.  She 
was  an  impartial  observer." 

"Perhaps  she  had  better  tell  me!  You're  right! 
After  this  night  I  wouldn't  take  your  word  as  to  the 
wetness  of  water.     Lana,  speak  out!" 

"I  don't  know  what  I  can  tell  you — you  have 
been  right  here  all  the  time  in  the  State  House — " 

The  Senator  jammed  a  retort  between  the  links 
of  her  stammering  speech.  "Yes,  I  have  been 
right  here!     What  has  happened  below,  I  ask  you?" 

"  Why,  the  troops  marched  out.  They  went  away ! 
Right  through  the  mob!  And  it's  all  calm  and 
quiet." 

Governor  North  stamped  his  way  a  half-dozen 
paces  to  the  rear,  and  whirled  and  marched  back 
into  line. 

"Morrison,  have  you — have  you — "  Senator 
Corson  choked.  Not  knowing  exactly  what  to  say, 
he  shook  his  fist. 

"  Father,  what's  the  matter  ?  It  was  only  carrying 
out  your  orders." 

"Orders — my  orders?" 

"Stewart  Morrison,  why  don't  you  say  some- 
thing?" she  demanded. 

288 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

"Vm  sure  your  father  prefers  to  hear  from  you." 

"Confound  it!  I  do  want  to  hear,  and  hear  imme- 
diately!" 

Lana  displayed  some  of  the  paternal  ire.  "  Stewart, 
I  asked  you  to  be  candid  with  me.  You*re  leaving 
me  to  flounder  around  disgracefully  in  this  matter.** 

The  Senator  advanced  on  his  daughter  and  seized 
her  arm.  "I  don't  want  that  renegade  to  say  an- 
other word  to  me  as  long  as  I  live — and  he  knows  it. 
I'll  tell  you  later  what  has  been  going  on  here.  But 
now  tell  me  to  what  orders  of  mine  you  are  referring! 
Quick  and  short!** 

"Mayor  Morrison  made  a  little  speech  to  the  mob 
and  said  that  you  thought  it  was  best  to  send  away 
the  troops  to  prevent  bad  feelings  and  misunder- 
standing, and  said  you  were  backed  up  by  the 
Governor.'* 

The  Senator  swapped  looks  with  the  goggling 
North  over  Lana's  head. 

"And  the  mob  has  gone  home,  and  the  State  House 
is  thrown  wide  open,  and  the  policemen  are  on  duty, 
and  I  say  again  that  it*s  wonderful,'*  insisted  the 
girl. 

"Morrison,  did  you  say  that?  Have  you  done 
that?" 

Stewart  was  fully  aware  that  he  had  allowed  the 
men  in  the  square  to  draw  an  inference  from  a  com- 
pliment that  he  had  paid  to  Senator  Corson's 
sagacity,  and  had  refrained  from  making  a  direct 

declaration.     But  he  was  not  minded  to  embarrass 

289 


All-Wool  Morrison 

the  girl  any  further.  He  bowed.  "I  thank  Miss 
Corson  for  giving  the  gist  of  the  thing  so  neatly." 

"I  know  I  don't  understand  it  all  yet,  father!'* 
Lana  was  both  frightened  and  wistful.  The  Senator 
had  turned  from  her  and  was  striding  to  and  fro, 
scuffing  his  feet  hard  on  the  carpet.  "If  you're 
blaming  Mayor  Morrison  for  revealing  confidences, 
I'm  sorry.  But  you  can't  help  being  proud  when  it 
is  spread  abroad  how  your  handling  of  the  dreadful 
affair  prevented  bloodshed  and  shame  in  this  state." 

"  Spread  abroad ! "  Senator  Corson  brought  down 
his  feet  more  violently. 

The  situation,  if  it  remained  bottled  up  there  in 
the  Executive  Chamber  any  longer,  threatened  to 
explode  in  still  more  damaging  fashion,  was  Stewart's 
uncomfortable  thought.  The  Senator's  remark  sug- 
gested a  diversion  in  the  way  of  topics,  at  any  rate. 

"That  reminds  me  that  the  newspaper  boys  are 
waiting  outside  in  the  corridor,  Senator  Corson.  I 
asked  them  to  be  patient  for  a  few  minutes.  Please 
allow  me  to  say  that  I  have  added  no  statement  to 
what  I  said  to  the  crowd  in  the  square.  I  shall  not 
add  any." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  could  add  anything!"  re- 
torted the  Senator  with  venom. 

He  continued  his  promenade. 

Again  the  silence  in  the  room  became  oppressive. 

Morrison  was  scrutinizing  Governor  North  with 
especial  intentness. 

His  Excellency  was  giving  unmistakable  evidence 

290 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

that  he  was  surcharged.  He  was  working  his  elbows 
and  was  whispering  to  himself  with  a  fizzling  sound. 
He  had  turned  his  back  on  Lana  Corson  as  if  he 
were  resolved  to  ignore  the  fact  of  her  presence. 

Stewart,  exhibiting  deference  while  a  United 
States  Senator  was  pondering,  strolled  leisurely 
across  the  room  to  North  and  fondled  the  lapel  of  the 
Governor's  coat.  *'I  beg  your  pardon,  and  I  hope 
you'll  excuse  curiosity  in  a  chap  who  makes  cloth. 
Governor.  But  this  is  as  fine  a  piece  of  worsted 
as  I've  seen  in  many  a  day." 

North  lifted  his  arm  as  if  to  knock  the  presumptu- 
ous hand  away;  but  Stewart  slowly  clenched  his 
fist,  holding  the  fabric  in  his  close  clutch,  exerting  a 
strength  that  dominated  the  man  upon  whom  his 
hold  was  fastened.  The  mayor  went  on  in  an  under- 
tone, as  if  anxious  to  show  additional  deference  in 
the  presence  of  the  senatorial  ponderings.  "Governor, 
petty  politics  haven't  been  allowed  to  make  a  bad 
mess  of  what  has  been  turned  into  an  open  proposi- 
tion. Now  don't  allow  your  tongue  to  make  a  mess 
of  this  new  development  as  it  stands  right  now. 
Humor  Miss  Corson's  notions !  And  let  me  tell  you ! 
My  policemen  are  going  to  stay  on  the  job  until 
after  the  legislature  assembles." 

"Morrison,  you're  a  coward!"  grated  North. 
"You  brought  Corson's  girl  here  so  that  you  can 
sneak  behind  her  petticoats." 

Stewart  released  his  hold,  clapped  His  Excellency 

on  the  shoulder,  raised  his  voice,  and  cried,  heartily; 

291 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Thank  you,  Governor!  You're  right.  You  have 
an  excellent  idea  of  a  piece  of  goods,  yourself." 

Senator  Corson  arrived  at  a  decision  which  he  did 
not  confide  to  anybody.  He  spoke  to  Daunt  and  the 
two  of  them  went  to  the  divan  and  dragged  on  the 
overcoats  which  they  had  discarded  when  RelHhan's 
obstinacy  had  been  found  to  be  unassailable. 

Lana,  studying  the  faces  of  the  men,  drew  her  furs 
about  her. 

"The  car  is  waiting  near  the  west  portico,  father," 
she  ventured  to  say. 

Corson  took  his  time  about  buttoning  his  coat. 
Lana  had  her  heritage  of  dark  eyes  from  her  father; 
his  wrath  had  settled  into  cold  malevolence  and  his 
eyes  above  his  white  cheeks  were  not  pleasant  ob- 
jects. He  surveyed  the  various  persons  in  the  room. 
He  took  his  time  in  that  process,  too! 

"For  the  present — for  now — for  to-night,"  he 
said,  quietly,  elaborating  his  mention  of  the  moment 
with  significance,  "we  seem  to  have  cleaned  up  all 
the  business  before  us.  In  view  of  that  interregnum. 
Governor,  of  which  you  have  been  so  kindly  re- 
minded, I  suppose  you  feel  that  you  can  go  to  your 
hotel  and  rest  for  the  remainder  of  the  night  so  as 
to  be  in  good  trim  for  the  inaugural  ceremonies. 
Allow  me  to  offer  you  a  lift  in  my  car." 

The  Governor  trudged  toward  a  massive  wardrobe 
in  a  corner  of  the  chamber. 

"I  do  not  presume  to  offer  you  the  convenience 

of  my  car,  Mayor  Morrison,"  the  Senator  went  on. 

292 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

"I  take  it  that  your  recent  oath  as  supreme  Execu- 
tive during  the  aforesaid  interregnum  obliges  you  to 
stay  on  the  job.  Ah — er — do  we  require  a  counter- 
sign in  order  to  get  out  of  the  building?" 

The  mayor  was  walking  toward  the  private  door. 
"No,  sir!"  he  said,  mildly. 

"I  hope  you  hear  that,  Governor  North!  I  was 
compelled  to  give  countersigns  to  your  soldiers — 
quite  emphatic  countersigns.  The  new  regime  is  to 
be  complimented." 

Morrison  threw  open  the  door.  "That's  all,  Relli- 
han!     Report  to  the  chief!" 

The  newspaper  men  came  crowding  to  the 
threshold. 

"You  have  interviewed  Mayor  Morrison  on  the 
situation,  haven't  you?"  demanded  the  Senator, 
breaking  in  on  their  questions. 

"Yes!" 

"To-night — for  the  time  being — for  now,"  re- 
turned Corson,  dwelling  on  the  point  as  emphatically 
as  he  had  when  he  spoke  before,  "Mayor  Morrison 
seems  to  be  doing  very  well  in  all  that  has  been 
undertaken.  I  have  no  statement  to  make — abso- 
lutely no  word  to  say!" 

He  stepped  back  and  allowed  the  Governor  to 
lead  the  retreat;  His  Excellency  collided  with  two 
of  the  more  persistent  news-gatherers.  With  vol- 
leyed "No!  Nothing!"  he  marked  time  for  the 
thudding  of  his  feet. 

Apparently  Lana  had  entered  into  the  spirit  of 

293 


All-Wool  Morrison 

that  armed  truce  which,  so  her  father's  manner 
informed  her,  was  merely  a  rearrangement  of  the 
battle-front.  She  hurried  out  of  the  chamber  with- 
out even  a  glance  in  Morrison's  direction. 

Stewart's  grim  countenance  intimidated  the  re- 
porters;  they  went  away. 

For  a  long  time  the  mayor  paced  up  and  down  the 
Executive  Chamber,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him. 

Miss  Bunker  thumbed  the  leaves  of  her  note-book, 
putting  on  an  air  of  complete  absorption  in  that 
matter. 

Mac  Tavish  studied  the  mayor's  face;  Morrison 
was  wearing  that  expression  which  indicated  a  mood 
strange  for  him.  Mac  Tavish  had  seen  it  on  the 
master's  face  altogether  too  many  times  since  the 
Morrison  had  come  from  the  mill  in  the  forenoon. 
It  was  not  the  look  he  wore  when  matters  of  business 
engrossed  him.  The  old  paymaster  liked  to  see 
Morrison  pondering  on  mill  affairs;  it  was  medita- 
tion that  always  meant  solution  of  difficulties,  and 
the  solution  was  instantly  followed  by  a  laugh  and 
good  cheer. 

But  it  was  plain  that  Morrison  had  not  solved 
anything  when  he  turned  to  Mac  Tavish. 

"Not  much  like  honest,  real  business — ^this,  eh, 
Andy.?" 

"Naething  like,  sir!" 

"  Doesn't  seem  to  be  a  polite  job,  either — politics — 

if  you  go  in  and  fight  the  other  fellow  on  his  own 

ground." 

294 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

"I've  e*er  hated  the  sculch  and  the  scalawags!" 

"Totten  calls  this  a  political  exigency." 

"I'll  no  name  it  for  mysel'  in  the  hearing  o'  the 
lass!" 

"Seems  to  need  a  lot  of  fancy  lying  when  a  green- 
horn like  me  starts  late  and  is  obliged  to  do  things 
in  a  hurry.  Gives  business  methods  an  awful 
wrench,  Andy!" 

"Aye!"    The  old  Scotchman  was  emphatic. 

"In  fact,  in  a  political  exigency,  according  to 
what  I've  found  out  this  evening,  the  quickest  liar 
wins!"  He  walked  to  Miss  Bunker's  side.  "You 
might  jot  that  down  as  sort  of  summing  the  thing 
up  and  consider  the  record  closed." 

"Do  ye  think  it's  all  closed  and  that  ye*re  wee! 
out  of  it?"  inquired  Mac  Tavish,  anxiously. 

"I  think,  Andy,"  drawled  the  mayor,  a  wry  smile 
beginning  to  twist  at  the  comers  of  his  mouth,  "that 
I  may  have  the  militia  and  the  people  and  the  poli- 
ticians well  out  of  it,  but  considering  the  mess,  as  it 
concerns  me,  myself,  I'm  only  beginning  to  be  good 
and  properly  in  it." 

"Ye  hae  the  record,  as  jotted  by  the  lass,  and  I 
heard  ye  say  naething  but  what  was  to  your  credit. 
And  the  words  o*  the  high  judges!  Ye're  well 
backed ! " 

"Oh,  that  reminds  me,  Andy.    That  boy  who 
brought  the  telegrams  to  the  door !    He'll  come  to  the 
mill  in  the  morning.     Pay  him  ten  dollars.    I  didn't 
have  the  money  in  my  clothes  when  I  hired  him." 
20  295 


\ 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"And  that  reminds  me,  too,  Mr.  Morrison!"  said 
Miss  Bunker.  **Do  you  want  me  to  keep  the  tele- 
grams with  the  record?  You  remember  you  took 
them  when  you  went  out  with  the  general/* 

Morrison  reached  into  his  breast  pocket  for  the 
papers,  tore  them  slowly  across,  and  stuffed  the 
scraps  back  into  a  side-pocket.  "I  reckon  they 
won't  do  the  record  much  good.  It*s  more  of  the 
political  exigency  stuff,  Andy  I     I  wrote  *em  myself  I  '* 

His  hands  had  touched  has  pipe  when  he  had 
shoved  the  bits  of  paper  into  his  pocket.  He  took 
it  out  and  peered  into  the  bowl.  There  was  tobacco 
there  and  he  fumbled  for  a  match. 

"Andy,  usually  I  like  to  have  morning  come,  for 
there's  always  business  waiting  for  me  in  the  morn- 
ings and  honest  daylight  helps  any  matter  of  clean 
business.  But  I'm  not  looking  ahead  to  this  next 
sunrise  with  a  great  deal  of  relish.  Those  telegrams 
were  clinchers  in  the  case  of  Totten,  but  I  don't 
know  what  the  judges  will  say.  What  I  said  about 
Senator  Corson  to  the  mob  helped  a  lot — but  I  don't 
know  what  the  Senator  Is  going  to  say  in  the  morn- 
ing. And  I  don't  know  what  Governor  North  pro- 
poses to  say.  Or  what — "  He  checked  himself 
and  shook  his  head.  "Well,  there's  considerable 
going  to  be  said,  at  any  rate!  I'll  run  over  the  thing 
in  my  mind  right  now  while  I  have  time  and  every- 
thing is  quiet.  Mac  Tavish,  take  Miss  Bunker  to  the 
car  and  tell  Jock  to  carry  you  and  her  home  and  to 

come  back  here  for  me.** 

296 


Lana  Corson  Has  Her  Doubts 

After  they  had  gone  he  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat 
down  in  the  Governor's  big  chair  and  smoked  and 
pondered.  Every  little  while  he  thrust  his  fore- 
finger and  thumb  into  his  vest  pocket  and  ransacked 
without  avail.  "I  must  have  left  it  in  my  dress 
clothes,'*  he  muttered.  "But  no  matter!  Tm  not 
in  the  right  frame  of  mind  to  enjoy  poetry.  How- 
ever, merely  in  the  way  of  taking  a  new  clinch  on 
the  proposition  I  do  remember  this  much,  *  But  I  will 
marry  my  own  first  love!*  There*s  truth  in  poetry 
if  you  go  after  it  hard  enough.  And,  on  second 
thought,  Fd  better  keep  my  mind  on  poetry  as  closely 
as  I  can!  I  certainly  don*t  dare  to  think  of  politics 
right  now!** 


XX 


IN   THE    COLD   AND    CANDID   DAYLIGHT 

COR  the  first  time  in  his  life  Governor  North  had 
■'■  his  breakfast  served  to  him  in  his  room  at  his 
hotel;  he  ate  alone,  chewing  savagely  and  studying 
newspapers 

He  did  not  welcome  this  method  of  breakfasting  as 
a  pleasing  indulgence.  Rugged  Lawrence  North  was 
no  sybarite;  he  hated  all  assumptions  of  exclusiveness; 
he  loved  to  mingle  and  mix,  and  his  morning  levees 
in  the  hotel  breakfast-room  catered  to  all  his  vanity 
as  a  public  functionary.  He  did  not  own  up  squarely 
to  himself  that  he  was  afraid  to  go  down  and  face 
men  and  answer  questions.  He  had  ordered  the 
hotel  telephone  exchange  to  give  him  no  calls;  he 
had  told  the  desk  clerk  to  state  to  all  inquirers  that 
the  Governor  was  too  busy  to  be  seen;  he  paid  no 
attention  to  raps  on  his  door.  His  self-exculpation 
in  this  unwonted  privacy  was  that  he  could  not 
afford  to  allow  himself  to  be  bothered  by  questioners 
until  he  and  Senator  Corson  could  arrange  for 
effectual  team-work  by  another  conference.     When 

he  and  the  Senator  parted  they  agreed  to  get  to- 

298 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

gether  at  the  Corson  mansion  the  first  thing  after 
breakfast. 

While  the  Governor  ground  his  food  between  his 
teeth  he  also  chewed  on  the  savage  realization  that 
he  had  nothing  sensible  to  say  in  public  on  the  situa- 
tion, considering  his  uncompromising  declarations 
of  the  day  before;  there  were  those  declarations 
thrusting  up  at  him  from  the  newspaper  page  like 
derisive  fingers;  by  the  reports  in  parallel  columns 
he  was  represented  as  saying  one  thing  and  doing 
another!  And  a  bumptious,  blundering,  bull-headed 
Scotchman  had  put  the  Governor  of  a  state  in  that 
tongue-tied,  skulking  position  on  the  proud  day  of 
inauguration ! 

His  Excellency  slashed  his  ham  and  stabbed  his 
eggs,  making  his  food  atone  vicariously. 

He  did  not  order  his  car  over  the  hotel  telephone. 
The  hotel  attaches  were  obsequious  and  would  be 
waiting  to  escort  him  in  state  across  the  main  office. 
The  politicians  would  surround  the  car.  And  he 
was  perfectly  sure  that  some  of  the  big  men  of  an 
amazed  State  House  lobby  might  step  into  that  car 
along  with  him  and  seek  to  know  what  in  the  name 
o'  mischief  had  happened  overnight  to  change  all 
the  sane  and  conservative  plans  in  the  way  of 
making  a  legislature  safe  I 

He  bundled  himself  and  his  raw  pride  into  his 

overcoat,  turned  the  fur  collar  up  around  his  head, 

and  went  down  a  staircase.     He  was  sneaking  and 

he  knew  it   and  no  paltering  self-assurance  that  he 

299 


All-Wool  Morrison 

was  handling  a  touchy  situation  with  necessary  tact 
helped  his  feelings  in  the  least.  He  stepped  into  a 
taxicab  and  was  glad  because  the  breath  of  previous 
passengers  that  morning  had  frosted  the  windows. 
That  consolation  was  merely  a  back-fire  in  the  rest 
of  the  conflagration  that  raged  in  him. 

It  was  a  dull  morning,  somber  and  cold. 

When  he  stamped  up  the  broad  walk  from  the 
gate  of  the  Corson  mansion  he  beheld  the  boarded 
windows  of  the  ballroom,  and  the  spectacle  added 
to  his  sense  of  chill.     But  his  anger  was  not  cooled. 

Senator  Corson's  secretary  was  waiting  in  the  hall; 
he  showed  the  Governor  up  to  the  Senator's  study. 

Either  because  the  outdoors  was  not  cheerful  that 
morning  or  because  the  Senator  had  been  too  much 
engrossed  in  meditation  to  remember  that  daylight 
would  serve  him,  the  curtains  of  the  study  were 
drawn  and  the  electric  lamps  were  on. 

Corson  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room,  chew- 
ing on  one  end  of  a  cigar  and  making  a  soggy  torch 
of  the  other  end.  He  continued  to  pace  while  North 
pulled  off  his  coat. 

"I  have  sent  word  to  Morrison  to  come  here," 
reported  the  host. 

The  mantel  clock  reported  the  hour  as  nine;  His 
Excellency  scowled  at  the  clock's  face.  "And  yo« 
got  word  back,  I  suppose,  that  after  he  has  come  out 
of  his  mill  at  ten  o'clock  and  has  washed  his  hands 
and — " 

"He's  at  City  Hall,"  snapped  Corson,  with  an 

300 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

acerbity  that  matched  the  Governor's.  "I  called 
the  mill  and  was  referred  to  Morrison  at  City  Hall. 
He's  on  his  way  up  here!  At  any  rate,  he  said  he'd 
start  at  once." 

"Did  he  condescend  to  intimate  in  what  capacity 
he  proposes  to  land  on  us  this  time?" 

"I'm  going  to  allow  you  to  draw  your  own  con- 
clusions. I've  been  trying  to  draw  some  of  my  own 
from  what  he  said." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Apologized  because  I  was  put  to  any  trouble  in 
locating  him.  Said  he  was  expecting  to  be  called 
by  me  and  thought  he  would  go  to  City  Hall  and 
await  my  summons  in  order  to  put  himself  and  the 
whole  situation  on  a  strictly  official  basis."  The 
Senator  delivered  that  information  sullenly. 

"What  kind  of  a  devilish  basis  does  he  think  he's 
been  operating  on?" 

"Look  here.  North!  If  you  have  come  up  here 
to  fight  with  me  after  the  row  you  have  been  having 
down-town  this  morning  I  warn  you — " 

"I  have  had  no  row  down-town.  I  wouldn't  see 
anybody.  I  wouldn't  talk  with  anybody.  Blast  it! 
Corson,  I  don't  know  what  to  say  to  anybody!" 

"Well,  that's  one  point,  at  least,  on  which  you  and 

I  can  get  together  even  if  we  can't  agree  on  anything 

else.    If  you  have  been  so  cursedly  exclusive  as  all 

that.  North,  perhaps  you  haven't  been  in  touch  with 

any  of  the  justices  of  the  supreme  court,  as  I  have." 

"You  have,  eh?" 

301 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"I  called  Davenport  and  Madigan  on  the  tele- 
phone.'* 

"What  excuse  could  they  give  for  sending  their 
snap  opinions  over  the  wire  on  the  inquiry  of  a 
fool?" 

"They  offered  no  excuse.  They  couldn't.  They 
knew  nothing  about  any  telegrams  till  I  informed 
'em.  They  received  no  inquiry.  They  sent  no 
replies,  naturally." 

"That — that —  Did  that — "  The  Governor  pawed 
at  his  scraggly  neck.     "He  faked  all  that  stuff?" 

"Absolutely!" 

Comment  which  could  not  have  been  expressed  in 
long  speeches  and  violent  denunciation  was  put  into 
the  pregnant  stare  exchanged  by  the  two  men. 

Then  the  Senator  took  another  grip  on  his  cigar 
with  bared  teeth  and  began  to  march  again. 

"Corson,  what's  going  to  be  done  with  that  blue- 
blazed  understudy  of  Ananias?" 

"Depend  on  the  wrath  of  Heaven,  perhaps,"  said 
the  Senator,  sarcastically.  "I  haven't  had  time  to 
look  in  Holy  Writ  this  morning  and  ascertain  just 
what  kind  of  a  lie  Ananias  told.  But  whatever  it 
was,  it  was  tame  beside  what  Morrison  told  that 
mob  about  me  last  night." 

"You've  had  your  fling  at  me  about  my  exclu- 
siveness!  What  are  you  putting  out  yourself  this 
morning  in  the  way  of  statements?"  The  Governor 
banged  his  fist  down  on  the  newspapers  which  littered 

the  study  table. 

302 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

"Nothing!    Not  yet!" 

"I've  got  to  have  my  self-respect  with  me  when  I 
deliver  my  inaugural  address  this  forenoon.  The 
only  way  I  can  possess  it  is  by  ramming  Morrison 
into  jail." 

"On  what  ground,  may  I  ask?" 

"Interference  with  the  Chief  Executive  of  this 
state !  Inciting  the  mob  against  the  militia !  Putting 
state  property  in  danger.  Forgery — contempt  of 
court!  I'll  appeal  to  the  judges  to  act.  I'll  call  in 
the  attorney-general.  You  and  I  were  forcibly 
detained!" 

"Yes,  we  might  allege  abduction,"  was  Corson's 
dry  rejoinder.  "Our  helplessness  in  the  hands  of  a 
usurper  would  win  a  lot  of  public  sympathy." 

"I  tell  you,  we  would  have  the  sympathy  of  the 
people,"  asserted  the  Governor,  too  angry  to  be 
anything  else  than  literal. 

"And  they'd  express  it  by  giving  us  the  biggest 
laugh  ever  tendered  to  two  public  men  in  this  state. 
North.  We've  got  to  look  this  thing  straight  in  the 
eye.  I  told  Morrison  last  night  that  no  such  pre- 
posterous thing  was  ever  put  over  in  American 
politics,  and  he  agreed  with  me.  You  must  agree, 
too!  That  makes  us  unanimous  on  one  point,  and 
that's  something  gained,  because  it's  an  essential 
point.  We  can't  afford  to  let  the  public  know  just 
how  preposterous  the  situation  was.  A  man  in 
American  public  life  can  get  away  with  almost  any 
kind  of  a  fix,  if  it's  taken  seriously.     But  the  right 

303 


All-Wool  Morrison 

sort  of  a  general  laugh  will  snufF  him  like  that ! "  He 
snapped  his  finger.  "We're  not  dealing  with  poli- 
tics and  procedure  in  the  case  of  Morrison.'* 

"We're  dealing  with  a  fool  and  his  folly  I"  the 
Governor  shouted. 

It  was  another  of  those  cases  where  the  expected 
guest  under  discussion  becomes  an  eavesdropper 
at  just  the  wrong  moment;  Morrison  was  not  de- 
liberately an  eavesdropper.  He  had  followed  the 
instructed  secretary  to  the  study  door,  and  the 
Governor  had  declared  himself  with  a  violence  that 
was  heard  outside  the  room. 

The  mayor  stepped  in  when  the  secretary  opened 
the  door 

After  the  secretary  had  closed  the  door  and  de- 
parted Morrison  stepped  forward.  "Governor  North, 
you're  perfectly  right,  and  I  agree  with  you  without 
resenting  your  remark.  I  did  make  quite  a  fool  of 
myself  last  night.  Perhaps  you  are  not  ready  to 
concede  that  the  ends  justify  the  means." 

"I  do  not,  sir!" 

"A  result  built  on  falsehoods  is  a  pretty  poor 
proposition,"  declared  the  Senator.  "I  refer  espe- 
cially to  those  fake  telegrams  and  to  your  impudent 
assertion  to  the  mob  that  I  said  this  or  that!" 

"Yes,  that  telegram  job  was  a  pretty  raw  one, 
sir,"  Morrison  admitted.  "But  I  really  didn't  lie 
straight  out  to  those  men  in  the  square  about  your 
participation.     I  let  'em  draw  an  inference  from  the 

way  I  complimented  your  fairness  and  good  sense. 

304 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

I  was  a  little  hasty  last  night — but  I  didn't  have 
much  time  to  do  advance  thinking." 

"I'm  going  to  express  myself  about  last  night," 
stated  Senator  Corson. 

"Will  you  wait  a  moment,  sir?"  Morrison  had 
not  removed  his  overcoat;  he  had  not  even  unbut- 
toned it;  he  afforded  the  impression  of  a  man  who 
intended  to  transact  business  and  be  on  his  way  with 
the  least  possible  delay.  He  glanced  at  the  electric  ^ 
lights  and  at  the  shaded  windows.  "This  seems  too 
much  like  last  night.  Won't  you  allow  me?  It's  a^ 
little  indulgence  to  my  state  of  mind!" 

He  hurried  across  the  room  and  snapped  up  the 
shades  and  pulled  apart  the  curtains.  He  reached 
his  hand  to  the  wall-switch  and  turned  off  the  lights. 

"This  isn't  last  night — it's  this  morning — and 
there's  nothing  like  honest  daylight  on  a  proposition, 
gentlemen!  Nothing  like  it!  Last  night  things 
looked  sort  of  tragic.  This  morning  the  same  things 
will  look  comical  if* — he  raised  his  forefinger — 
"if  the  inside  of  'em  is  reported.  If  the  real  story 
is  told,  the  people  in  this  state  will  laugh  their  heads 
off."  Again  the  Governor  and  the  Senator  put  a  lot 
of  expression  into  the  look  which  they  exchanged. 
"  I  got  that  mob  to  laughing  last  night  and,  as  I  told 
General  Totten,  that  settled  the  civil  war.  If  the 
people  get  to  laughing  over  what  happened  when  Con 
Rellihan  took  his  orders  only  from  the  mayor  of 
Marion,  it  will — ^well,  it  '11  be  apt  to  settle  some 
political  hash." 

30s 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"Do  you  threaten?"  demanded  North.  He  was 
bHnking  into  the  matter-of-fact  dayHght  where 
Morrison  stood,  framed  in  a  window. 

"Governor  North,  take  a  good  look  at  me.  I'm 
not  a  pirate  chief.  Tm  merely  a  business  man  up 
here  to  do  a  little  dickering.  I  can't  trade  on  my 
political  influence,  because  I  haven't  any.  You  have 
all  the  politics  on  your  side.  I  propose  to  do  the 
best  I  can  with  the  little  stock  in  trade  I  have 
brought."  He  walked  to  the  table  and  flapped  on  it 
his  hand,  palm  up.  "You  are  two  almighty  keen 
and  discerning  gentlemen.  I  don't  need  to  itemize 
the  stock  in  trade  I  have  laid  down  here.  You  see 
what  I've  got!" 

He  paused  and,  his  eyes  glinting  with  a  suppressed 
emotion  that  the  discerning  gentlemen  understood, 
he  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  of  them. 

"You've  got  a  cock-and-bull  yarn  in  which  you 
are  shown  up  as  a  liar  and  a  lawbreaker,"  the  Gover- 
nor declared.  "You've  got  some  guess-so  about 
errors  in  returns — " 

"Hold  on!  Hold  on.  North!"  protested  Senator 
Corson.  "It's  just  as  Morrison  says — ^we  don't 
need  to  itemize  his  stock  in  trade.  I  can  estimate  it 
for  myself.  Morrison,  you  say  you're  ready  to 
dicker.     What  do  you  want?" 

"A  legislature  that's  organized  open  and  above- 
board,  with  all  claimants  in  their  seats  and  having 
their  word  to  say  as  to  the  sort  of  questions  that  will 

be  sent  up  to  the  court.     Staying  in  their  seats, 

306 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

gentlemen,  till  the  decisions  are  handed  down!  Let 
the  legislature,  as  a  whole,  draft  the  questions  about 
the  status  of  its  membership.  I've  got  my  own  in- 
terest in  this — and  I'll  be  perfectly  frank  in  stating 
it.  I  have  a  report  on  water-power  to  submit.  I 
don't  want  that  report  to  go  to  a  committee  that  has 
been  doctored  up  by  a  hand-picked  House  and 
Senate." 

"You  don't  expect  that  Governor  North  and  my- 
self are  going  to  stand  here  and  give  you  guaranties 
as  to  proposed  legislation,  do  you?" 

"You  are  asking  me,  as  an  executive,  to  interfere 
with  the  legislative  branch,"  expostulated  His 
Excellency. 

"Gentlemen,  I  don't  expect  to  settle  the  problems 
of  the  world  here  this  morning,  or  even  this  water- 
power  question.  I'm  simply  demanding  that  the 
thing  be  given  a  fair  start  on  the  right  track." 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  significance  in  his  tone 
when  he  added:  "I  hope  there'll  be  no  need  of  going 
into  unpleasant  details,  gentlemen.  All  three  of  us 
know  exactly  what  is  meant." 

Senator  Corson  was  distinctly  without  enthu- 
siasm; he  maintained  his  air  of  chilly  dignity. 
"What  legislation  is  contemplated  under  that  report 
that  you  will  submit  ? " 

"  Some  of  the  lawyers  say  that  a  general  law  pro- 
hibiting the  shipping  of  power  over  wires  out  of  the 
state  must  be  backed  by  a  change  in  our  constitution. 
Until  we  can  secure  that  change  there  must  be  a 

307 


All-Wool  Morrison 

prohibitive  clause  on  every  water-power  charter 
granted  by  the  legislature — a  clause  that  restricts 
all  the  developed  power  for  consumption  in  this 
state." 

"A  policy  of  selfishness,  sir." 

"No,  Senator  Corson,  a  policy  that  protects  our 
own  development  until  we  can  create  a  surplus  of 
power.  Sell  our  surplus,  perhaps!  That's  a  sound 
rule  of  business.  If  you'll  allow  me  to  volunteer  a 
word  or  two  more  as  to  plans,  I'll  say  that  eventually 
I  hope  to  see  the  state  pay  just  compensation  and 
take  back  and  control  the  water-power  that  was 
given  away  by  our  forefathers. 

"As  to  power  that  is  still  undeveloped,  I  consider 
it  the  heritage  of  the  people,  and  I  refuse  to  be  a 
party  to  putting  a  mortgage  on  it.  My  ideas  may 
be  a  little  crude  just  now — I  say  again  that  every- 
thing can't  be  settled  and  made  right  in  a  moment, 
but  I  have  stated  the  principle  of  the  thing  and  we 
fellows  who  believe  in  it  are  going  ahead  on  that 
line.  I  realize  perfectly  well,  sir,  that  this  plan 
discourages  the  kind  of  capital  that  Mr.  Daunt 
represents,  but  if  there  is  one  thing  in  this  God's 
country  of  ours  that  should  not  be  put  into  the  hands 
of  monopoly  it's  the  power  in  the  currents  of  the 
rivers  that  are  fed  by  the  lakes  owned  by  the  people. 
I'm  a  little  warm  on  the  subject.  Senator  Corson, 
I'll  confess.  I  have  been  stubbing  my  toes  around 
in  pretty  awkward  shape.     But  I  had  to  do  the  best 

I  could  on  short  notice." 

308 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

"You  have  been  very  active  in  the  affair,"  was  the 
Senator's  uncompromising  rejoinder. 

Governor  North  continued  to  be  frankly  a  skeptic 
and  had  been  expressing  his  emotions  by  wagging 
his  head  and  grunting.  In  the  line  of  his  general 
disbelief  in  every  declaration  and  in  everybody,  he 
pulled  his  watch  from  his  pocket  as  if  to  assure  him- 
self as  to  the  real  time;  he  had  scowled  at  the  Sena- 
tor's mantel  clock  as  if  he  suspected  that  even  the 
timepiece  might  be  trying  to  put  something  over 
on  him.  "I  must  be  moving  on  toward  the  State 
House."  He  wore  the  air  of  a  defendant  headed 
for  the  court-room  instead  of  a  Governor  about  to 
be  inaugurated.  "I  must  know  where  I  stand! 
Morrison,  what's  it  all  about,  anyway?" 

The  Governor  was  convincingly  sincere  in  his 
query.  He  had  the  manner  of  one  who  had  decided, 
all  of  a  sudden,  to  come  into  the  open.  There  was 
something  almost  wistful  in  this  new  candor.  Stew- 
art's poise  was  plainly  jarred. 

"What's  it  all  about .? "  He  blinked  with  bewilder- 
ment.    "Why,  I  have  been  telling  you.  Governor!" 

"Do  you  think  for  one  minute  that  I  believe  all 
that  Righteous  Rollo  rant?" 

"I  have  been  stating  my  principles  and — " 

"Hold  on!  I've  had  all  the  statements  that  I  can 
absorb.  What's  behind  *em?  That's  what  I  want 
to  know.  Wait,  I  tell  you!  Don't  insult  my  intelli- 
gence any  more  by  telling  me  it's  altruism,  high- 
minded   unselfishness  in   behalf  of  the   people!    I 

309 


All-Wool  Morrison 

have  heard  others  and  myself  talk  that  line  of  punk 
to  a  finish.  Are  you  going  to  run  for  Governor  next 
election?" 

"Absolutely  not!" 

"Are  you  grooming  a  man?" 

"No,  sir!" 

"Building  up  a  political  machine?" 

"Certainly  I  am  not." 

"Going  to  organize  a  water-power  syndicate  of 
your  own  after  you  get  legislation  that  will  give  you 
a  clear  field  against  outside  capital?" 

"No — no,  most  positively!" 

"Senator  Corson,  you  claim  you  know  Morrison 
better  than  I  do.     How  much  is  he  lying?" 

"I  think  he  means  what  he  says." 

North  picked  up  his  overcoat  and  plunged  his 
arms  into  the  sleeves.  "If  I  should  think  so — if  I 
should  place  implicit  faith  in  any  man  who  talks 
that  way — I'd  be  ashamed  of  my  weakness — and 
I've  got  too  many  things  about  myself  to  be  ashamed 
of,  all  the  way  from  table  manners  to  morals! 
There's  one  thing  that  I'm  sort  of  holding  on  to,  and 
that's  the  fact  that  my  intellect  seems  to  be  unim- 
paired in  my  old  age.  Morrison,  I  don't  believe  half 
what  you  say." 

The  mayor  of  Marion  made  no  reply  for  some 
moments.  Corson,  surveying  him,  showed  uneasi- 
ness. A  retort  that  would  fit  the  provocation  was 
likely  to  lead  to  results  that  would  embarrass  the 

host  of  the  two  Executives. 

310 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 


€tt 


'Oh,  by  the  way,  Governor,"  said  Stewart, 
quietly,  "I  just  came  from  City  Hall.  I  really  did 
not  intend  to  drift  so  far  from  strictly  official  business 
when  I  came  up  here.  I  want  to  assure  you  that 
there  will  be  no  expense  to  the  state  connected  with 
the  police  guard  at  the  Capitol.  They  are  at  your 
service  till  after  the  inaugural  ceremonies.  Do  you 
think  you  will  need  the  officers  on  duty  at  your  resi- 
dence any  longer,  Senator  Corson?" 

"No,  sir!" 

"I  agree  with  you  that  everything  seems  to  have 
quieted  down  beautifully.  Governor,  you  have  my 
best  wishes  for  your  second  term.  I'm  sorry  I'll 
not  be  able  to  go  to  the  State  House  to  hear  your 
address." 

He  went  to  the  Governor  and  put  out  his  hand,  an 
act  which  compelled  response  in  kind. 

"I'm  much  obliged!"  His  Excellency  was  curt 
and  caustic.  "After  the  vaudeville  show  of  last 
night  there  won't  be  much  to-day  at  the  State  House 
to  suit  anybody  who  is  fond  of  excitement.'* 

Before  North,  departing,  reached  the  door  Sena- 
tor Corson's  secretary  tapped  and  entered.  He 
gave  several  telegrams  into  the  hand  of  his  employer. 

"Pardon  me,  gentlemen!"  apologized  the  Senator, 
tearing  open  an  envelope.  "Wait  a  moment.  North. 
These  messages  may  bear  on  the  situation." 

He  read  them  in  silence  one  after  the  other,  his 

face  betraying  nothing  of  his  thoughts. 

He  stacked  the  sheets  on  the  table.     "Evidently 
21  3" 


All-Wool  Morrison 

several  notable  gentlemen  in  our  state  rise  early, 
read  the  newspapers  before  breakfast,  and  are  handy 
to  telegraph  offices,"  he  remarked,  leveling  steady 
gaze  at  Stewart.  "These  telegrams  are  addressed 
to  me,  but  by  good  rights  they  belong  to  you.  Mister 
Mayor,  I'm  inclined  to  believe." 

There  was  irony  in  the  Senator's  tone;  Morrison 
offered  no  reply. 

"They're  all  of  the  same  tenor.  North,"  explained 
Senator  Corson.  "I'm  bracketed  with  you.  You'll 
probably  find  some  of  your  own  waiting  at  the  State 
House  for  you.     And  more  to  come!" 

"Well,  what  are  they — ^what  are  they?" 

"Compliments  for  the  sane,  safe,  and  statesman- 
like way  we  handled  a  crisis  and  saved  the  good 
name  of  the  state." 

"Now,  Morrison,"  raged  the  Governor,  "you  can 
begin  to  understand  what  kind  of  a  damnable  mess 
you've  jammed  me  into  along  with  Corson,  here! 
That  steer  of  a  policeman  will  blat,  that  Scotchman 
wit'  .narl,  and  that  loose-mouthed  girl  will  babble!" 

"Governor,  I  haven't  resented  anything  you  have 
said  to  me,  personally.  You  can  go  ahead  and  say 
a  lot  more  to  me,  and  I'll  not  resent  it.  But  let  me 
tell  you  that  I  can  depend  on  the  business  loyalty  of 
the  folks  who  serve  me;  and  if  you  go  to  classing  my 
kind  of  helpers  in  with  the  cheap  politicians  with 
whom  you  have  been  associating,  I  shall  say  some- 
thing to  you  that  will  break  up  this  friendly  party. 

My  folks  will  not  talk!     Save  your  sarcasm  for  your 

31* 


In  the  Cold  and  Candid  Daylight 

agents  who  have  been  running  around  getting  you 
into  a  real  scrape  by  telling  about  those  election 
returns." 

He  snapped  about  face,  on  his  heels,  and  walked 
out  of  the  door. 


XXI 

A  WOMAN   CHOOSES   HER  MATE 

T^HE  haste  displayed  by  Mayor  Morrison  in  getting 
*■     away  from  the  study  door  suggested  that  he  was 
glad  to  escape  and  was  not  fishing  for  any  invitation 
to  return  for  further  parley. 

But  when  he  approached  the  head  of  the  stairway 
he  moved  more  slowly.  His  demeanor  hinted  that 
he  would  welcome  some  excuse,  outside  of  politics, 
to  keep  him  longer  in  the  Corson  mansion.  He 
paused  on  the  stairs  and  made  an  elaborate  arrange- 
ment of  a  neck  muffler  as  if  he  expected  to  confront 
polar  temperature  outside.  He  pulled  on  his  gloves, 
inspected  them  critically  as  if  to  assure  himself  that 
there  were  no  crevices  where  the  cold  could  enter- 
He  looked  over  the  banisters.  There  was  nobody  in 
the  reception-hall.  He  arranged  the  muffler  some 
more.  Step  by  step,  very  slowly,  he  descended  as 
far  as  the  landing  where  he  had  met  Lana  Corson 
joyously  the  night  before.  Not  expectantly,  with 
visage  downcast,  he  looked  behind  him. 

Lana  was  framed  in  the  library  door  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs. 

314 


A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 

"I  was  trying  to  make  up  my  mind  to  call  to  you. 
But  you  seemed  to  be  in  so  much  of  a  hurry!  I  sup- 
pose you  have  a  great  deal  to  attend  to  this  morning." 

"The  principal  rush  seems  to  be  over.  Was  it 
anything —     Did  you  want  to  speak  to  me?'* 

"Perhaps  it  isn't  of  much  importance.  It  did 
seem  to  be,  for  a  moment.  But  it's  something  of  a 
family  matter.  I  think,  after  all,  it  will  be  im- 
prudent to  mention  it." 

He  waited  for  her  to  go  on. 

"Probably  under  the  circumstances  you*ll  not  be 
especially  interested,"  she  ventured. 

"The  trouble  is,  I'm  afraid  I'll  show  too  much 
interest  and  seem  to  be  prying." 

"Will  you  please  step  up  here  where  I'll  not  be 
obliged  to  shout  at  you?" 

He  obeyed  so  promptly  that  he  fairly  scrambled  up 
the  stairs. 

"You  said  down  there  in  the  hall  last  evening  that 
my  father  was  angry  and  that  an  angry  man  says  a 
great  deal  that  he  doesn't  mean.  My  father  was 
very,  very  angry  when  he  and  I  arrived  home  last 
night." 

"I  reckoned  he  would  be." 

"In  his  anger  he  talked  to  me  very  freely  about 
you.  The  question  is,  should  I  beHeve  anything  he 
said?" 

"I — I  don't  know,"  he  stammered. 

"You're  not  going  back  on  your  own  statement 
about  an  angry  man,  are  you?" 

3«S 


All-Wool  Morrison 

"I  don't  think  it's  fair  to  accept  all  his  statements." 

"Fm  sorry  you  still  hold  that  opinion.  You  see 
I  drew  some  conclusions  of  my  own  from  what  my 
father  said  to  me,  and  those  conclusions  urge  me  to 
apologize  to  you  for  the  Corson  family.  I'm  afraid 
you  didn't  find  my  father  in  an  apologetic  mood  this 
morning." 

"Not  exactly." 

"Doris  tells  me  that  I  have  a  New  England  con- 
science. I'm  not  sure.  At  any  rate,  I'm  feeling 
very  uncomfortable  about  something!  It  may  be 
because  you're  misunderstood  by  our  family.  Do  I 
seem  forward?" 

"No!  Of  course  you  don't.  But  you're  putting 
me  in  a  terrible  position.  I  don't  know  what  to 
say.  I  don't  want  any  apologies.  They'd  make 
me  feel  like  a  fool — more  of  a  fool  than  I  have 
been." 

"Are  you  admitting  now  that  you  were  wrong  in 
the  stand  you  took  about  the  water-power  and — 
and — ^well,  about  everything?" 

He  had  been  listening  in  distress  and  perplexity, 
striving  to  understand  her,  groping  for  the  meaning 
she  was  hiding  behind  her  quiet  manner.  But  her 
question  struck  fire  from  the  flint  of  his  resolution. 
"That  power  matter  is  a  principle,  and  I  am  not 
wrong  in  it.  As  to  the  means  I  used  last  night,  it 
was  brass  and  blunder  and  I'm  ashamed  of  acting 
that  way." 

"There's  no  need  of  going  into  the  matter.     I 

316 


A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 

received  a  great  deal  of  information  from  my  father 
— when  he  was  angry.  And  I  woke  up  early  this 
morning  and  began  to  consider  the  evidence.  I  was 
hard  at  it  when  you  drove  up  in  your  car.  I  have 
been  waiting  for  you  to  come  from  your  talk  with  my 
father  and  the  Governor.  I  want  to  say,  Stewart, 
that  when  I  stood  up  last  night,  like  a  fool,  and  lect- 
ured you  about  neglecting  your  opportunities  in 
life  I  was  considering  you  only  as  the  boss  of  St. 
Ronan's  mill.  But  my  father  told  me  what  you 
really  are.  I  have  always  respected  him  as  a  very 
truthful  man,  even  when  he  is  well  worked  up  by  any 
subject.  I  must  take  his  word  in  this  matter, 
though  he  didn't  realize  just  how  complimentary  he 
was  in  your  case.  And  if  you  can  spare  me  a  few 
moments,  I  want  you  to  come  into  the  library." 

She  walked  ahead  of  him  toward  the  door. 

"I  think  I'll  leave  the  Corson  family  right  out  of  it, 
Stewart.  I'm  a  loyal  daughter  of  this  state.  I'm 
home  again  and  I've  waked  up.  Humor  me  in  a 
little  conceit,  won't  you?  Let  me  make  believe  that 
I'm  the  state  and  listen  to  me  while  I  tell  you  what  a 
big,  brave,  unselfish — '* 

They  were  inside  the  door  and  he  put  his  arm 
about  her  and  led  her  toward  the  big  screen  and 
broke  in  on  her  little  speech  that  she  was  making 
tremulously,  apprehensively,  with  a  sob  in  her  voice, 
trying  to  hide  her  deeper  emotions  under  her  mock- 
dramatics. 

*'Hush,  dear!  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  state  talk 
317 


All-Wool  Morrison 

to  me!  I  want  to  hear  only  Lana  Corson  talk.  I 
didn't  understand  her  last  night!  Now,  bless  her 
honest,  true  heart,  I  do  understand  her." 

Speech,  long  repressed,  was  rushing  from  his 
mouth.  Then  he  struggled  with  words;  his  excite- 
ment choked  him.  He  looked  down  at  her  through 
his  tears.  "The  bit  poem,  lassie!  You  remember 
it.  The  poem  you  recited,  and  when  I  sent  you  the 
big  basket  o'  posies!  All  the  time  since  yesterday 
it  has  been  running  in  my  head.  I  sat  alone  in  the 
State  House  last  night  and  all  I  could  remember 
was,  'But  I  will  marry  my  own  first  love!'  I  tried 
to  say  it  out  like  a  man,  believing  that  God  has 
meant  you  for  me.  But  I  couldn't  think  I'd  be 
forgiven ! " 

Lana  took  his  hand  between  her  palms  and  stopped 
him  at  the  edge  of  the  screen.  She  quoted,  meeting 
his  adoring  eyes  with  full  understanding: 

**And  I  think,  in  the  lives  of  most  women  and  men, 

There's  a  moment  when  all  would  go  smooth  and  even—** 

She  drew  him  gently  with  her  when  she  stepped 
backward. 

She  had  heard  the  Senator's  voice  in  the  corridor; 
he  was  escorting  Governor  North. 

On  the  panels  of  the  screen  were  embroidered 

some  particularly  grotesque  Japanese  countenances. 

Those  pictured  personages  seemed  to  be  making  up 

faces  at  the  dignitaries  who  passed  the  open  door. 

318 


A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 

"But  I  must  go  to  your  father,  sweetheart," 
Stewart  insisted.  "I'd  best  do  it  this  morning  and 
have  it  all  over  with." 

This  declaration  as  to  duty  and  deference  was  not 
made  while  Senator  Corson  was  passing  the  door; 
nor  was  it  made  with  anything  Hke  the  promptitude 
the  Senator  might  have  expected  in  a  matter  which 
was  so  vitally  concerned  with  a  father's  interests. 
In  fact  it  was  a  long,  long  time  before  Stewart  had 
anything  to  say  on  that  subject.  If  Senator  Corson 
had  been  listening  again  on  the  other  side  of  the 
screen,  he,  no  doubt,  would  have  been  mightily 
offended  by  a  delay  which  seemed  to  make  the  father 
an  afterthought  in  the  whole  business. 

If  he  had  been  eavesdropping  he  would  not  have 
heard  much,  anyway,  of  an  informing  nature.  He 
would  have  heard  two  voices,  tenderly  low  and  in- 
coherent, interrupting  eagerly,  breaking  in  on  each 
other  to  explain  and  protest  and  plead.  If  Stewart's 
protracted  neglect  of  the  interests  of  a  father  would 
have  availed  to  rouse  resentment,  Lana's  reply  to 
Stewart's  rueful  declaration  more  surely  would  have 
exasperated  the  Senator;  she  emphatically  com- 
manded Stewart  to  say  not  one  word  on  the  subject 
to  her  father. 

"Why,  Stewart  Morrison,  for  twenty-four  hours 
you  have  been  taking  away  my  breath  by  doing  the 
unexpected!  You  have  been  grand.  Now  are  you 
going  to  spoil  everything  by  dropping  right  back 
into    the    conventional,    every-day    way    of   doing 

319 


All-Wool  Morrison 

things?  You  shall  not!  You  shall  not  spoil  my 
new  worship  of  a  hero!" 

"Well,  I  won't  seem  much  like  a  hero  if  I  act  as 
though  I'm  afraid  of  your  father!" 

She  raised  her  voice  in  amazed  query.  "For 
mercy's  sake,  haven't  you  been  proving  that  you're 
not  afraid  of  him?"  Once  more,  jubilantly,  teas- 
ingly,  wrought  upon  by  the  revived  spirit  of  the 
intimacy  of  the  old  days,  she  assumed  a  playful  pose 
with  him,  but  this  time  her  sincerity  of  soul  was 
behind  the  situation.  "Don't  you  realize,  sir,  that 
the  calendar  of  the  Hon.  Jodrey  Wadsworth  Corson, 
on  this  day  and  date,  is  crowded  with  strictly  new 
business?  He  is  due  at  the  State  House  very  soon. 
Do  you  think  he  can  afford  to  be  bothered  with 
unfinished  business?" 

He  worshiped  her  with  silence  and  a  smile. 

"Yes,  Mister  Mayor  of  Marion,  unfinished  busi- 
ness— yours  and  mine!  Our  business  of  the  old 
days.  But  the  honorable  Senator  is  perfectly  well 
aware  that  the  business  aforesaid  is  on  the  calendar. 
He  had  been  supposing  that  we  had  forgotten  it.  I 
see  a  big  question  in  your  eyes,  Stewart  dear! 
Well,  now  that  you're  a  party  to  the  action  and 
interested  in  the  matter  to  be  presented,  I'll  say  that 
after  Senator  Corson  had  done  his  talking  to  me  last 
evening,  or  very  early  this  morning,  to  be  more 
exact,  I  called  on  my  family  grit  of  which  he's  so 
proud  and  I  did  a  little  talking  to  Senator  Corson. 

And  he  knows  that  the  business  is  unfinished — he 

320 


A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 

knows  it  will  be  brought  duly  to  his  attention — and 
he'll  be  in  a  better  frame  of  mind  after  his  present 
petulance  has  worn  off." 

"Petulance!"     Morrison  was  rather  skeptical. 

"Exactly!  He's  just  as  much  of  a  big  child  as 
most  men  are  when  another  big  child  tries  to  take 
away  a  plaything.  Oh,  he  was  furious,  Stewart! 
But  let  me  tell  you  something  for  your  comfort. 
He  dwelt  most  savagely  on  the  fact  that  you  had 
grabbed  in  single-handed  and  beaten  a  Governor  and 
a  United  States  Senator  at  their  own  game!  Won- 
derful, isn't  it — an  admission  like  th'at.f'  He  has 
always  patronized  you  as  a  countryman  who  knew 
how  to  make  good  cloth  and  who  didn't  amount  to 
anything  else  in  the  world.  Why,  in  a  few  days 
he'll  be  admitting  that  he  admires  you  and  respects 
you! 

She  paused.  After  a  few  moments  she  went  on, 
her  tones  low  and  thrilling.  "I've  been  trying  to 
explain  myself  to  you,  Stewart.  You  know,  now, 
that  I  have  always  loved  you.  I  have  told  you  so 
in  a  way  that  leaves  no  doubts  in  a  man  such  as  you 
are.  You  have  forgiven  me  for  being  simply  human 
and  silly  before  I  woke  up  to  understand  you.  And 
you  don't  misunderstand  me  any  more,  do  you?" 
she  pleaded,  wistfully.  "Last  night  I  saw — your 
big  j"<?//"/" 

"Lana,  it  was  a  wonderful  night — more  wonderful 

than  I  realized  till  now!" 

After  a  time  they  became  aware  of  a  stir  below- 

321 


All-Wool  Morrison 

stairs  and  they  came  out  from  behind  the  screen 
where  the  Japanese  faces  grinned  knowingly. 

*' Please  obey  me,  Stewart;  you  must!  It's  really 
my  trial  of  you  to  see  if  you're  obedient  when  I 
know  it's  for  your  own  good.  Go  down  and  wait  for 
me."     She  left  him  in  the  corridor  and  ran  away. 

He  marched  down  the  stairs  with  as  much  self- 
possession  as  he  could  command. 

Below  him  he  saw  Senator  Corson,  Mrs.  Stanton, 
Silas  Daunt,  and  the  banker's  son.  All  were  garbed 
for  outdoors  and  the  Senator  was  inquiring  of  Mrs. 
Stanton  why  Lana  was  not  ready. 

From  the  landing  down  to  the  hall  Stewart  found 
the  ordeal  an  exacting  one.  Those  below  surveyed 
him  with  an  open  astonishment  that  was  more  dis- 
concerting than  hostility;  he  was  in  a  mood  to  fight 
for  himself  and  his  own;  but  to  deal  in  mere  polite 
explanations,  after  Lana's  imperious  command  to 
keep  silent  on  an  important  matter,  was  beyond  any 
sagacity  he  possessed  in  that  period  of  abashed 
wonder  what  to  say  or  do. 

It  was  his  thought  that  Miss  Corson,  in  her  efforts 
to  avoid  an  anticlimax  of  conventional  procedure, 
was  ipaking  a  rather  too  severe  test  of  him  in  forcing 
him  to  endure  the  unusual. 

He  did  manage  to  say,  "Good  morning!"  and 
smiled  at  them  in  a  deprecatory  way. 

Coventry  Daunt  amiably  responded  as  a  spokes- 
man for  the  group;  but  he  had  waited  deferentially 
for  his  elders  to  make  some  response. 

322 


A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 

The  Senator  held  a  packet  of  telegrams  in  his  hand. 
After  Stewart  had  halted  in  the  hall,  putting  on  the 
best  face  he  could  and  evincing  a  determination  to 
stick  the  thing  out,  Senator  Corson  walked  over  and 
offered  to  give  the  mayor  the  telegrams.  "They're 
beginning  to  arrive  from  Washington,  sir.     Better 

read  'em.     They'll  afford  you  a  great  deal  of  joy, 

If  >> 

m  sure. 

Stewart  shook  his  head,  declining  to  receive  the 
missives.  He  wanted  to  tell  the  Senator  that  more 
joy  right  at  that  moment  would  overtask  the 
Morrison  capacity. 

"I  wish  I  were  younger  and  more  of  an  oppor- 
tunist," Corson  avowed.  "In  these  guessing  times 
among  the  booms,  here  is  gas  enough  to  inflate  a 
pretty  good-sized  presidential  balloon."  He  waved 
the  papers. 

The  Senator's  tone  was  still  rather  ironical,  but 
Stewart  was  seeking  for  straws  to  buoy  his  new  hopes; 
whether  he  was  so  recently  away  from  Lana's  dark 
eyes  that  the  encouragement  in  them  lingered  with 
him,  he  was  not  sure.  He  felt,  however,  that  the 
Senator's  eyes  did  seem  a  little  less  hard  than  the 
polished  ebony  they  had  resembled. 

An  awkward  silence  ensued.  The  Senator  stood 
in  front  of  the  caller  and  queried  uncompromisingly 
with  those  eyes. 

The  caller,  having  been  enjoined  from  babbling 
about  the  business  that  had  been  transacted  behind 
the  screen  in  the  library,  had  no  excuse  to  offer  for 

323 


All-Wool  Morrison 

hanging  around  there.  "I — I  suppose  you're  going 
to  the  State  House,"  he  suggested,  after  he  decided 
that  the  weather  called  for  no  comments. 

**We  are!  We  are  waiting  for  my  daughter," 
stated  Corson,  with  a  severity  which  indicated  that 
he  was  determined,  then  and  there,  to  rebuke  the 
cause  of  her  delay. 

"I'm  so  sorry  you  have  waited!"  Lana  called  to 
them  from  the  landing,  and  came  hurrying  down, 
fastening  the  clasp  of  her  furs. 

She  went  to  Mrs.  Stanton,  her  face  expressing 
apologetic  distress.  "It's  so  comforting,  Doris,  to 
know  that  you  and  I  don't  need  to  bother  with  all 
these  guest  and  hostess  niceties.  You'll  under- 
stand— because  you're  a  dear  friend!  Father  will 
make  the  doors  of  the  Capitol  fly  open  for  his  party 
— and  you'll  be  looked  after  wonderfully."  She 
bestowed  her  gracious  glances  on  the  others  of  the 
Daunt  family.  *'I  know  you'll  all  forgive  me  if  I 
don't  come  along." 

She  did  not  allow  her  amazed  father  to  embarrass 
the  situation  by  the  outburst  that  he  threatened. 
She  fled  past  him,  patting  his  arm  with  a  swift 
caress.  "I'm  going  with  Stewart — over  to  Jeanie 
Mac  Dougal  Morrison's  house.  It's  really  dread- 
fully important.  You  know  why,  father.  I'll  tell 
you  all  about  it  later.  Come,  Stewart!  We  must 
hurry!" 

Young  Mr.  Daunt  was  near  the  door.  He  opened 
it  for  her.    When  Stewart  passed,  following  the  girl 

324 


A  Woman  Chooses  Her  Mate 

closely,  the  volunteer  door-tender  qualified  as  a  good 
sport.     He  whispered,  "Good  luck,  old  man!" 

When  Coventry  closed  the  door  he  gave  his  sister 
a  prolonged  and  pregnant  stare  of  actual  triumph. 

It  was  only  a  look,  but  he  put  into  it  more  sig- 
nificance than  sufficed  for  Doris's  perspicacity. 

He  had  confided  to  his  sister,  the  evening  before, 
his  hopeful  reliance  on  a  girl's  heart. 

But  the  Lana  Corson  who  came  down  the  stairs, 
who  confronted  them,  who  had  fearlessly  chosen 
her  mate  before  their  hostile  eyes,  was  a  woman. 

And  Coventry's  gaze  told  his  sister  boastingly 
that  he  had  made  good  in  one  respect — he  had  called 
the  turn  in  his  estimate  of  a  woman. 


THE    END 


^^  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  U8RARY  FAOUTY 


A     000  706  588     i 


